


I'm Gonna Getcha Good

by somebodytoldme



Series: The Accidental Time Travelling Spider [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lots of Crazy, M/M, POV Miles Morales, POV Peter Parker, POV Wade Wilson, Peter's friends are badasses, Pizza time, Protective Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Team X - Freeform, Time Travel, Unnecessary amount of song references, alternating povs, lots of singing, the slowest burn to ever burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodytoldme/pseuds/somebodytoldme
Summary: Spider-Man becomes reluctant friends with Deadpool. And although he disapproves of mostly everything Deadpool does - he can still see the good in him - despite how deeply damaged the man is.People are disappearing in the city, and nobody, not even Mr. Stark, notices. So, that is how he and Deadpool end up working as team. And that is how he ends up in an evil looking laboratory. And how he ends up being zapped seven years into the past, looking at a fresh faced blond named Wade Wilson.





	1. Shania Twain was a 90s Queen

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically I am taking huge liberties with this. I wanted to see Wade prior to his mercenary days and that is basically the reason for all this.... SO we will see where this takes us!
> 
> I would say this takes in place mostly in the canon movie-verse for Marvel with the exception of the Deadpool movies (though some of it will be used). I am also adding on some characters - Harry Osborn, Miles Morales (because who DOESN’T love MILES?) Peter is 17 in the main story line. Feel free to use/picture whatever Peter fits your vision best. I think of comic-verse Peter a lot in this fic but it really doesn't matter.
> 
> Also - I have never attempted to write any of these characters before so I apologize if any of it seems out of character. Also writing the boxes is something I will undoubtedly struggle with but it seems necessary for a Deadpool fanfiction. SO SORRY. I'm going to try my best.
> 
> Lastly, this is not beta'd. Please excuse my inevitable grammar mistakes...

POV Wade  
_September 4th 2018, Tuesday - 8:43pm_

(White)

[Yellow]

 

“I’m gonna getcha while I got in you in sight…”

[I’m gonna getcha]

“I’m gonna getcha if it takes ALL NIGHT~!”

(As much as I love a good throwback, shouldn’t we be focusing?)

[YEAH, YOU CAN BETCHA]

“YOU CAN BETCHA BY THE TIME I SAY GO, YOU’LL NEVER SAY NOOO~!”

(...that don’t impress me much.)

Wade continues to hum under his breath as he lifts his binoculars again. He was sat casually in a green a white striped lawn chair with a green fishing cap over his usual reds and blacks. “We see what you did there,” he murmurs, in appreciation to his third favorite Shania Twain song, right after Man I Feel Like a Woman.

[OH oO-OH YOU THINK YOU’RE SPECIAL]

(...Can we FOCUS?)

[OH ooOH YOU THINK YOU’RE SOMETHING ELSE]

(SHUT UP!)

[okay, so you’re Brad Pitt~]

The motion detection lights of the apartment Wade had been staking out for several hours finally flickered to life. He sat up in his chair, the boxes silencing immediately. It was the hallway lights, and he watched a middle-aged man shuffled into the apartment, gray suit - and equally gray faced.

( _Finally_ cutting time baby)

[yessss]

The bloodlust of the boxes was palpable. Wade jumped to his feet and tossed the green cap off carelessly - finally a bite.

[...we see what you did there… fishing…]

(LAME WRITING LAMEEE)

[GAG GAG]

He strolled over to the edge of the rooftop, pulling out his favorite pistol. He shot the window out, and leapt across into the man’s living room. Glass cascaded down around him in a light shower as he landed right in the “superhero pose”.

[we are _so_ cool]

( _Yes_ embedding glass in our knees in a completely impractical landing is so cool)

By now his friend was most definitely panicking, so Wade skipped up to his feet, sliding his favorite pistol back into the holster. “Oh honey, I’m home!” he cheered, moving from the living room into the hallway/kitchen that were attached. He found the man standing petrified. He cocked his hip to the side, pushing imaginary hair over his shoulder, “We need to talk.”

This seemed to pull the man back to reality because he turned around and tried to yank his front door open. He was slammed into the door, effectively closing it again, by a hand on the back of his neck. He let out a pathetic whimper as he was dragged away into the living room and shoved roughly on to the glass coated couch.

(HE TRIED TO RUN AWAY CUT HIM, PUNISH HIM)

[yes yes blood, make him squeal _pig_ ]

Deadpool pulled out his tactical knife, twisting it in his hands as he spoke. The point pricked his index finger; blood pooled at the tip of his glove before the wound quickly began clotting. “Yes, he didn’t want to talk nicely, so we are going to have to be not so nice...”

The man’s eyes widened, tensing as if to dart again, but the crazy man in red was already on him. His hand was on his throat, and the blade was pressed closely to his adam’s apple which bobbed as he drew out a panicked breath.

[wait wait wait, that’s too easy]

(Make him suffer… Make him bleed… Make him scream)

He carefully removed the pressure of the blade from the man’s throat, and watched relief pool in his eyes. But it didn’t last long, in the next moment the blade of the knife was stabbing through nice gray trousers and into rippling muscle. An agonized scream erupted from the man as he swung his fists blindly in the direction of the pain. Deadpool easily dodged, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, YOU MANIAC?!”

“Now is that any way to talk to your wife?” Deadpool purred sweetly, twisting the knife, watching as blood saturated the gray patterns at the man’s upper thigh appreciatively. _Yes_. The boxes hum appreciatively. He leans back on his heels, mood darkening.

“YOU’RE CRAZY!”

(He’s not wrong)

Wade tilts his head back and laughs, he laughs until he wheezes, “Yeah…. Totally…. BATSHIT CRAZY!” And in a flash a long katana is pulled out from his back, and it slices through muscle and bone like butter. The man’s left hand falls like a dead fish onto the floor. Blood squirts out from the nice clean cut: staining the man’s nice white shirt, couch, and the front of Wade’s suit (but that was red so totally cool).

It takes a minute, must be the shock, before the man is screaming. _Screaming_ at the top of his damn lungs.

[we should have cut his cock off]

Wade kicks the hand to the side, looking thoughtfully at the expensive watch still attached. His Hello Kitty one was superior anyway, it had a cute little cover that he liked to flip open and closed when he was stressed.

“WHAT THE HELL!” The man screamed, when his brain could manage something coherent again, his right hand clutching the white bone of his wrist in disbelief.

Wade bent down to his level, “Don’t ever give Zoe trouble again, don’t ever touch her, look at her, or even breath near her, or I’ll cut off something else.” He looks down at the man’s pants, watching the blood drain from his already pale face. “Capisce?”

He nodded.

(We are kind of cool)

And Deadpool smiled before turning and leaping out the window.

There was a sickening crunch below as both his ankles broke and his shins splintered from the impact - having forgotten he was on the twenty-second floor. He groaned, “Oops~”

(We take it back)

[LAME]

\----

(We should have killed him)

[we should cut off his other hand just in case]

“It was our job to scare him, not unalive him, in fact not unaliving him was specifically in the requirements.”

[boring]

(Why did we take this job again?)

“Chimichangas.” Speaking of chimichangas, his stomach groaned as it had been about thirty minutes since his last snack.

(You literally just ate, like, a whole pizza on the rooftop)

“Yes, but that was Italian, we need Mexican, some diversity here people!” Wade frowned, heading off in the direction of his favorite hole-in-the-wall chimichanga factory. “I am a growing boy after all.”

[you stopped growing like ten years ago, you’re just fat]

(Old, fat, ugly as fuck)

[I don’t know how you eat with a face of yours, doesn’t it make you sick?]

He hums, blocking out the noise in his head, “Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I’m homebound…” Yellow can’t resist and joins in.

[staring blankly ahead just making my way, making my way through the crowd~]

He’s just walking by, minding his own business, when he hears it.

September, a fall night, summer heat finally dying with the beginnings of that refreshing cool night breeze that whips through the good old city that never sleeps. A bright pink, Hello Kitty watch read 9:32pm, and it was a Tuesday. The Mexican restaurant would be closing in 28 minutes, and usually Deadpool would be hurrying his busy leather clad butt down there for his chimichangas before it closed. 

“You know, if I were a drug dealer, I would consider looking less like a drug dealer!” Wade edged closer to the voice, peeking down an alley as he watched the most beautiful ass in spandex he has ever seen flip through the air and land gracefully on its feet.

(Woahh)

“Or even meet somewhere else? I mean, don’t you have a creative bone in your body?” Webs exploded from the man’s hand, what the hell?!, and one of the three startled guys was webbed up with his hands to his sides. He struggled. The other two rushed Mr. Nice Buns, but he easily sidestepped them with a sigh, “I mean an alleyway, really guys? You almost make this too easy.” And he moved in at incredible speed, knocking the second guy back with a carefully placed punch that knocked the wind out of him.

The third that was webbed up had finally broken free and pulled out a knife. Spider held up his hands, “OH GOD, not a pocket knife!” And his hand cocked before another web shot out and pulled the knife from the man’s hand. Poor son of a bitch didn’t stand a chance because next moment Spider advanced and knocked him out. The first guy now ran at Spider’s back, but he merely jumped up, onto the wall, webbing his chest and pulling into said wall with a crash.

“Fuck….” Wade groaned.

[yeah, that was kind of like, really fucking hot]

Wade knew he should skedaddle before he was noticed. He didn’t know who this new guy was, but Deadpool wasn’t exactly… Popular. At least not with the Avengers. Or the X-Men. Or anybody.

(May have to do with the fact that you look like an old rotten potato that some old lady’s cat ate then hacked up and shat on)

[maybe because we kill people]

“Shuddup,” Wade murmured, watching as Spider began webbing up the men to the wall, even pulling out a pen and paper (where the hell was that hiding in that skin tight suit?!) and writing a note.  And then he was gone. Wade tried not to feel disappointed that he wasn’t discovered.

(A good fight _would_ have been refreshing)

[as if we wanted to fight… we’d much rather get our hands on that tight--]

Wade tried to block it out, edging around the corner to the unconscious drug dealers. He peeked curiously at the note that was written, and barked out a laugh before pulling out his phone to snap a photo.

Three guys drooling, webbed up against the wall with their heads lolled off to the side. A loose leaf piece of paper stuck to the middle guy’s chest. _Don’t deal drugs kids, and don’t do them! Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> I'm Gonna Getcha Good - Shania Twain  
> That Don't Impress Me Much - Shania Twain  
> A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton


	2. Just like Sherlock and Watson

_September 14th 2018, Friday - afternoon  
_ POV Peter

“What do you mean you’re _not_ coming to homecoming this year?” Ned hissed over the lunch table. Despite being an upperclassmen now, juniors, they still sat in their own secluded corner with the addition of MJ, of course.

They had all become closer. “Obviously, because the past two homecomings he went to have been disasters,” MJ piped up from the history book she was currently engrossed in. She was deeply into Greek mythology at the moment, and as it was kind of annoying it was also suiting for her.

“Come _on_ , they weren’t that bad.”

MJ raised a brow, “Yeah, ditching his first crush to go stop her dad from stealing a jet, and subsequently sending him to jail - not so bad?”

“Shhh,” Peter shushed, anxiously checking around if there was anyone listening in. But, luckily for their sake, nobody gave a shit what the table of losers was talking about. MJ had found out about the whole Spider-man thing a few months ago. Or rather, she _told_ Peter that she already had known for a long time, so he should stop making up lame excuses all the time. It still made his head spin to think she had known since the Washington Monument. “No, it’s not that, really, I have work.”

Ned and MJ ignored his excuse, “All the more reason that we all go,” Ned nods, “To make up for the previous failures.”

“Last year Electro blew out half the city’s power grid, and we had to go hide in the school’s basement for an hour and make up excuses to why Peter had suddenly disappeared.”

Ned crossed his arms, “Hey, I was the one covering.”

“Yeah, but I was the one who covered your ass and did the real convincing.”

Peter tried to hide a smirk because Ned was a tragically bad liar. It was nice to have MJ on his side, even if he hadn’t known it at the time. But that is when it occurs to him, “Wait, what makes _you_ so anxious about going to homecoming anyway?”

“He has a date,” MJ announces, having returned back to her book. Ned just flushes.

“Wait, what?!” Peter surges forward in his seat, “Who? When? How?”

“I’m not telling who - it happened last week - and it just sort of happened?”

Peter looked to MJ for some sort of indication of who it was, but she had already checked out of their conversation. So he turned his attention back to Ned, “ _Dude_ , that is _awesome_.”

He nodded nervously, “Yeah, so I need a wingman, come _on_ , Peter, pleaseeee?”

Thing was, he hadn’t actually been lying when he said he would be working. He had a deadline approaching on his research for his internship at Oscorp. He had taken the internship at the other company partially because he wanted to dig up more information on the genetically modified spider that had bit him, and because Mr. Stark would probably try to baby him in any actual internship. So, as he decided not to take shortcuts, he had to make some sort of presentation to show his bosses. Who would then in turn show the higher ups, who would then give them the nod to continue on with their research.

But Ned was giving him those puppy eyes, and he did feel bad that he had been ditching his friend more frequently than not because of Spider-man duties and… everything else. “Yeah, of course, I’ll be the best hot sauce to your wings.”

MJ rolled her eyes, “Not your best work,” she mumbled. He had to agree, but Ned was so happy he couldn’t bring himself to care.

\---

_September 15th 2018, Saturday - morning_

Peter hadn’t planned on going to Oscorp today, but seeing as how he was now going to homecoming, there wasn’t time to waste. He didn’t expect to see anyone in the lab either, as it was a Saturday, but sure enough - bent over a microscope was a familiar face. He tip-toed over, perhaps abusing his spidey talents for being stealthy, before poking the boy’s shoulder, “HEY MILES!”

Miles sprung up in his seat, whipping around to scowl at Peter, “Hey Pete.”

“That’s five to two,” Peter said smugly, sliding off his backpack and taking a seat next to the younger boy. They had this game, between the two of them, as to who could get the jump on the other the best. Unfortunately for Miles, he was at a disadvantage - spidey sense, but he still managed to get the jump on Peter the two times he actually fell asleep (or passed out) at the lab.

Miles hummed and returned to his work, “What are you doing here today?”

Peter began pulling out his laptop, it would be a good idea to start his presentation of his progress so far. “I got that presentation coming up, wanted to get a head start, you?”

Miles fidgeted in his seat, and glanced up at Peter with a small smile, “Avoiding my problems?”

Peter straightened up, attentive, ready to listen. There was a good selection of interns at Oscorp. Interns would ideally last all through their high school career, and at the end they would have hopefully have something to present as complete at the end of their four years. Peter was now on his third, and Miles was on his first. He was a freshman at a charter school, and as the friendship between the two developed, Miles had confessed he didn’t feel like he fit in there. He didn’t feel like he belonged, even at this internship, he felt like he was just faking his way through it all. He had some serious impostor syndrome because from what Peter could tell - he was brilliant.

“It is just…” He sighed, “I don’t know…”

Peter bumped their shoulders gently, “What’s going on?”

And Miles smiles softly, “It is just that my uncle hasn’t been answering any of my calls… And then yesterday I go to visit him, after school, right? And he isn’t there.”

“Perhaps he has just gone on a business trip?”

Miles makes a frustrated noise, and stares intently at his hands. “You don’t get it…” He sighs, glancing up at Peter. “He is on _parole_ Peter, he can’t… Can’t just leave.”

Peter frowns, but doesn’t say anything.

For which, Miles seems grateful because he continues like the dam has been broken, “Listen, he hasn’t broken parole _ever._ And he really isn’t a bad person, Peter, I _swear_. And I can’t tell the cops because I don’t know if they know already… And if they don’t then he could go back to jail or be in big trouble! And I can’t tell my parents because they don’t even know that I still talk to him, but I do because he is a good person and he’s helped me through some stuff… He got me into this school he’s trying to be better and I-”

“Miles _breath_ e.”

The boy paused and took in a deep breath, “M’sorry.”

Peter grinned, “Hey, it’s okay. Listen, I know a friend who can look into it for you, okay?”

Miles looked sad but hopeful, “Sure, Pete… _Thank_ you.”

Peter nodded, “Of course.” And they both returned to their projects in comfortable silence. But Peter could hardly focus on the powerpoint, not when his mind was racing on what could've happened to Mile’s uncle. And if he really was on parole, why hadn’t the police responded already? It didn’t add up. And as anxious as he was to run out and investigate as Spider-man, he couldn’t very well leave after just arriving. He would have to stick it out for at least a few hours… A very long few hours.

\---

_September 15th 2018, Saturday - night_

Peter doesn’t get to investigate until later that night. But after some research, and the aid of Karen, whom he had to admit was a life saver, he had figured out where Mile’s uncle lived. When he arrived, perched on the side of the building, he was immediately suspicious. The guy didn’t exactly live in a good neighborhood, but there was… something _else_ that was making his spidey-sense tingle in the back of his head. Like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

He crawled over to the window of the prospective apartment, and found it cracked open. His stomach did a flip, and he crouched to carefully pull it open without causing any alarm. As he did, he heard a soft tune being mumbled inside.

“We’re all someone’s daughter… we’re all someone’s sonn~” Peter’s senses told him it was not Mile’s uncle. So he gently ducked into the apartment, which squeezing through tiny windows was admittedly getting harder since his growth spurt sophomore year. “How long can we look at each other, down the barrel of a gun?”

He held his breath, listening to the mumbling that was coming from what must be the kitchen, it was slowly getting louder, more passionate, “You’re the voice, try and understand it, make a noise and make it cleaaar~”

Peter crept to the door just as the song reached its crescendo, "Oh-wo-wo-wo, oh-wo-wo-wo!! We're not gonna sit in silence, we're not gonna live with fear! Oh-wo-wo-wo, oh-wo-wo-wo!!!!” He pushed the door open, web slingers ready to fire, to be faced with a shocked looking (how did he manage to be that expressive in a mask?) man in a red suit. The man choked on his last ‘wo’ and subsequently dropped the sandwich in his hand.

“If you move I’ll have you webbed up to that refrigerator in a split second,” Peter warned, entire body tensed.

The man in the red suit didn’t move, but at Peter’s comment he tilted his head to the side, “Mmm, yes kinky, we kind of like it.”

Peter doesn’t relax, “Who are you - what are you doing here - and…” He looked down at the sandwich on the floor, and then took in the mixture of condiments out on the counter, “Are you really just eating some guy’s food?”

Big red had raised his hands in some false sense of surrender, but it didn’t make him seem any less dangerous. “Deadpool - I got hungry… And I could easily ask the same thing about _you_ Spidey, why are you breaking an entering? Don’t you, like, normally heckle and web up those kinds of guys?”

Spider-man was flustered at that comment, no, he was investigating for Miles, he wasn’t just breaking in. His eyes narrowed at.. Deadpool? “I’m looking for a friend, you didn’t answer my question.”

Deadpool didn’t seem to acknowledge his question. In fact, he seemed to be having some sort of inner dilemma as he tilted his head from left to right mumbling… “Yes… definitely a bad idea, but web-head won’t understand… You’re right…”

And then Deadpool artfully hopped over the counter and was advancing. Peter easily dodged him when he lunged, skirted around, and webbed his left arm (he had meant to get his middle but the man moved surprisingly fast).

“Ooooo,” cried Deadpool, “It _is_ really sticky!” He shook his left hand, and deciding he was unable to get free from it, he twisted the web to get a better grip. And then used it to yank Peter to him. He was strong, but Spider-man let himself be pulled, jumping up with the momentum to kick him in the stomach.

Deadpool let out groan as he stumbled back, and Spider-man advanced this time. But Deadpool dodged and had a severe right hook which Peter barely blocked in time. It went on like this for a good five minutes, it was a decent fight, as Deadpool was just unpredictable enough that it kept Peter on his toes. But, eventually, he had the other man pinned. His body generously webbed to the floor, with Peter’s foot resting on his chest like a heavy weight, _just in case_.

“We like you,” Deadpool said decidedly from his spot on the floor.

Which just opened up pandora’s box of questions. Who was _we_ ? Why did he like Spider-man after just getting caught? Why did he fight in the first place? Why was he _here_ ? But he decided to just stick to the main questions for now. “ _Why_ are you here?”

Deadpool was still grinning up him, “Investigating.”

“Investigating?” He repeated, incredulously, “You mean breaking an entry and making yourself a sandwich?”

“Can we let the sandwich go? It wasn’t even that good of sandwich, as far as sandwiches go, on the sandwich superiority scale it was like a negative three.”

He rubbed his eyes, it was getting late and he still had a lot of work to do, “Okay, can you please never say sandwich again?”

“Yeahh, it doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore, you know? When you say a word so much it isn’t even like a word anymore?”

Peter bit back a smile, despite himself, it was a ridiculous conversation to be having. “What are you investigating then?”

If his arms were free, Peter could picture Deadpool scratching the back of his neck, with that sheepish expression. “I mean, this dude’s disappearance, of course. He just up and banana split.”

“How do you know?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He got cold cuts in his fridge from, like a week ago… Everything is _untouched_ and his wallet and keys are still here. Isn’t that odd?”

He was surprised that Deadpool had managed to look that far into everything… But he was right. It was strange. And Miles’s words still echoed in his head. It worried him.

“Say, what are _you_ doing here anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Peter looks back down and shrugs, deciding that Deadpool wasn’t a threat as of right now. “I’m looking for him… for a friend.”

Deadpool seems to consider this, then nods sagely, “Alrighty, then we are looking for the same person, right?”

His eyes narrow, “...I suppose so.”

“They why don’t we work together? Like search together? Like Sherlock and Watson this shit.”

It is a bad idea. Peter doesn’t know who this guy really is. And they had literally just been fighting minutes earlier, probably still would be if Deadpool wasn’t webbed to the floor. But, for some reason, he couldn’t really see _why_ _not_. Besides, he didn’t have to clue Deadpool onto his part of the investigation, but could at least keep up-to-date on what the strange man was doing on his own. Better to keep tabs on him anyway.

That was how he ended up, reluctantly, agreeing. “...Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he rubbed the back of his neck, taking his foot off an excited looking Deadpool. “But only if I am Sherlock.”

Deadpool _whined_ , “No, it was my idea, my analogy, I wanna be Sherlock.”

Peter crossed his arms, “Who is currently pinned to the floor again?”

“ _Fine_.”

Peter’s phone dinged from his pocket, and when he pulled it out he saw several texts from Aunt May. “C _rap_ … Listen, I gotta go, but let’s meet up here, at the roof around nine tomorrow?”

Deadpool nodded enthusiastically, “Nine - roof - tomorrow, done!”

“Great, I’ll see you!” Peter ran back over to the window.

“Wait! Can’t you unweb me first?”

He threw a leg out into the night with a grin, “No, you deserve that. It dissolves in a few hours anyway.”

The last thing he hears as he webs off into the night is a distressed cry of, “A few HOURS?! But Golden Girls is on in _thirty_ minutes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to update this story 2-3 times a week. Wish me luck.  
> It is going to take a few more chapters to get to the time travel because we got to have some plot and relationships established first. But we will get there soon I promise!  
> Also- Peter has been Spider-man for about 3 years give or take at this point. You may be asking yourself - how do they not know each other yet? Well, Wade has been out of the country for a while and hasn't been keeping tabs on all the superheroes. (:
> 
> Song: You're the Voice - John Farnham  
> I am making a playlist for all the songs that I will use in this fic (admittedly there will be a lot) let me know if that is something that you would be interested in.
> 
>  
> 
> BEST <3


	3. Don't go chasing waterfalls or pretty, pure people

_September 16th 2018, Sunday - night  
_ POV Wade

(There is no way in hell he is showing up.)

[for-realsies, even if he was serious, he’s obviously gonna realize what a _bad_ idea this is]

“No, he’s coming,” Deadpool grumbles, with less certainty than a few moments ago. He clicks his Hello Kitty watch shut, nine-twenty, he was late. But Spider-man was a busy guy, right? He probably just got sidetracked. He was as probably just webbing up baddies on the way, right?

(Or he planning the best way to let you down, gently...)

[we all know about your fragile ego]

(You could just snap at any minute. Kill him. Like you did the other night.)

Deadpool jumps to his feet, pacing, trying to ignore the boxes, “No, not kill, we just wanted to play.”

[wanted to see that ass in action, up close]

“It is a nice ass.”

(Yeah, really nice when we got pinned the floor for _three_ hours.)

[we really had to pee too]

“Don’t remind me,” Wade grumbled, having laid there for hours, considering the benefits of cutting out his bladder for good. It would probably kill him, but there really was only one way to find out… He reached for his tactical knife.

(Woah there big guy, it hasn’t even been an hour yet-)

[fragile ego-]

But there was a soft _thunk_ as Spider somersaulted onto the roof, effectively slowing his momentum a bit breathlessly. _Yeah_ , Wade was a little breathless from it. The super-hero had actually showed up…

“Hey, uh, Deadpool?! Sorry I’m late, got a little caught up…  was helping an old lady with directions…” Spider-man mumbled the last part, head awkwardly bent down, embarrassed.

(He was helping a poor old lost lady find her way.)

[no problem too small for spidey]

(He is too pure.)

[literal cinnamon-bun)

“Of course, of course!” Deadpool called enthusiastically, quickly tucking away his knife, “It’s no problem-o! Picking up old biddies is the best!”

(You’re an idiot.)

Spider-man nodded slowly, “Uhuh,” Webs moved to sit down at the ledge Deadpool had just been occupying, “Sooo, got anything else on Mr. Davis?”

Wade shook his head, “Nothing on him specifically, ‘cept the usual background - guy’s on parole - got a record yada yada…”

Spider-man nodded, knowingly, before hesitantly patting the concrete next to him. Wade took the hint immediately, practically skipping over to seat his toosh down like a good little boy. Spidey chuckled, “Yeah, I already got that too… And I couldn’t seem to find any one, with any power at least, that would be pissed enough to scare him off…” Spider-man paused, as if he wasn’t sure he should be sharing the next bit, but he did anyway, “He’s got people he cares for, he wouldn’t just disappear without a trace.”

Whomever this Mr. Davis was, obviously, concerned Spidey. So, he tried say his next bit, gently. “Yeahh... He definitely didn’t leave on his own accord.”

[big word there bird brain]

“-And I don’t think he was the only one,” Deadpool finishes darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ people have been disappearing… And nobody gives a shit. Because it is people with a past. People who have nobody. And who would care if they disappeared? The police? One less problem for them to keep track of.”

Spider-man just stares at him.

(You broke him.)

“No, no, that can’t be true. They would _definitely_ care.”

“Fine, then someone is paying them enough _not_ to care.”

Spider-man shakes his head, eye-hole thingies squinting in disbelief, “But _why_? What would someone want with a bunch of ex-convicts?”

(Ohhh, we could think of a few things..)

[weapon x]

Wade’s hand itches to caress his favorite pistol, _and kill them all for what they did to us_.

(They deserve it. Monsters.)

[KILL THEM, SHOOT THEM, CUT THEM, EAT THEMM]

(Woah… slow down there “Venom”, cannibalism is not really our forte.)

He lets out a nervous laugh breaking the tension because Spidey was too pure for that. “Not really sure, Web-head, you think you could do a little digging on the old Inter-webs?”

Spider-man scowls, “Weak one. But _yes_ , I can do that, got some names for me, ‘Pool?

[did he just call us by a nickname? Is this for real?!]

Wade didn’t hide his glee, “Of course! Spidey-man, I have,” he counted the names out with his fingers, “... That’s a total of eight- that we know of that is.”

Spider-man nodded, having taken note, and suddenly stood. Wade leapt to his feet as well. “Thanks for intel, I’ll take a look into it…” He inched back hesitantly, “I gotta… Go on patrol now.”

Wade thinks back to his research- [heavy stalking] he had done on Spider-man after seeing him fighting with those drug dealers in the alley a few weeks ago and - of course he has to go on patrol! Spidey didn’t really take a night off. And the fan boy in Wade had to see it first hand. “Ooo, can I come? Pretty please?”

He looked surprised, then uncertain, but eventually Spidey reluctantly agreed, “Yeah, uh, sure?”

“HELL YEAH!” Wade fist pumped, “We get to go on patrol with the greatest ass in the city!”

Spider-man didn’t say anything to that, just took that as his cue to go swinging off, leaving Wade to chase after said fine ass.

(Don’t go chasing waterfalls-)

[please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to]

“I know that you’re gonna have it your way or nothing at all~” Wade sang hopping down a fire escape so he could properly chase after Spider-man. Believe it or not - jumping from roof top to roof top wasn’t an effective form of transportation. Plus it was hard on the old knees.

[but I think you’re moving too fast]

(-I really didn’t mean for this to turn into a karaoke session-)

“Little precious has a natural obsession for temptation!”

[but he just can’t see]

“She give him loving that his body can’t handle-”

(-all I’m trying to say is to control your little crush-)

[but all he can say is-]

"Baby, it's good to me.”

(- or you’re going to get hurt.)

\---

Peter POV

Patrol with Deadpool didn’t go that bad, considering… He did have to slow down his usually slinging through the city a little bit, but it wasn’t a big deal. Deadpool didn’t even complain, even though he arrived at every scene a little late and more than a little out of breath.

But after stopping two drug deals, during which Deadpool patted down the dealers afterwards, asking if they had any of the _good stuff_ \- much to Peter’s displeasure; they also managed to stop a robbery. And by that time it was getting late, and Peter had a physics exam tomorrow that he really couldn’t accidentally sleep through. So he had to call it.

“We make a good team Webs-Watson! I knock ‘em, you web them up all nice and pretty like, its kinda magic.” Deadpool was practically jumping up and down.

“Yeah, I suppose we aren’t bad…” Peter slowly agreed because it was kind of nice to have someone watch your back. And Deadpool seemed to work fairly seamlessly with his style, quips and all that banter. “But don’t think I missed that Watson comment, I’m Sherlock - we agreed!” he pointed out.

“Shit - Sherlock Spidey,” Deadpool clutched at his chest where Peter had “shot” him, “splendid save.”

“Alliteration - a no go.”

“She sells seashells by the sea shore? Say it Spidey - five times fast.”

“I’ll pass-” Peter watching in amusement as Deadpool muttered the tongue twister and fucked it up on the second go, “-but I do have to be going.”

“She-see-sheshells- BLAH- wait- what?” Deadpool shook his head, “No way, all this super-hero busting the bad guys, and chasing after your ass, it is a nice one by the way, has got us starving. Let’s get tacos, chimichangas, hell, I’ll even order a pizza.”

The sound of food _does_ something to Peter’s empty stomach. Yeah, he had ate thai with Aunt May _hours_ ago, but he had a fast metabolism and he had also spent the whole night swinging through the city. So, he nods, “Yeah, I definitely could go for a pizza, or two.”

Deadpool had already whipped out a phone, “Yeah, two pizzas with everything on it, another two just cheese extra cheese, and a pepperoni - Spidey you a pepperoni guy you seem like a pepperoni guy…?”

Peter shrugged because he wasn’t a picky eater, especially not after the whole spider-bite thing.

“Uhh deliver to… where are we again?”

“It’s okay, I’ll pick it up - it is faster anyway.”

Deadpool gave him a thumbs up, “Awesome, no, scratch that, we’ll pick up, yeah, yeah, fifteen? Yeah, be there, thanks.”

\---

There have been a few times where Peter has questioned his life decisions.

One, was when he got into a fight with Johnny Storm the first time they met, and got his pants set on fire. He had to sling back home in his boxers. There had been photos online… A lot of them. And somebody, Johnny, wouldn’t let him live it down.

Second, was when he was fighting Electro, and his web shooters overloaded and broke. His backpack was stolen again, not really the shocker of the year… So, he was forced to take the subway home. Luckily, everyone mostly assumed he was just a super legit cosplayer. And he took a lot of selfies with strangers. It was actually kind of fun.

Third, was standing at the counter of a small pizza joint downtown, Joe’s Pizza, looking into a wide-eyed Italian man. It’s occupants were not so stealthy taking photos of him. God, this was going to be all over Twitter. He was definitely going an earful from MJ and Ned tomorrow… “Uh, order for Pool?”

The stunned man nodded, and quickly ran to the back with a stack of five pizzas. Peter was eternally grateful for his mask because he could feel himself going pink as he handed the cash Deadpool supplied. “Are you, uh, really Spider-man?”

“Yup, the one and only, thank you so much, keep the change please!” Peter said quickly, grabbing the pizzas and high tailing it out of there as fast as possible.

“Hey man, let me know if you’re looking for a job!”

\---

Peter arrived not twenty minutes later to the rooftop he had left Deadpool, to find the other hunched over his phone _snickering_. He dropped the pizzas, sitting down slowly, “Dare I ask what you’re laughing at?”

“Times are really tough in New York City, even Spider-man has a part time job of delivering pizzas-” Deadpool gleefully supplied a blurry photo a bystander had taken of him swinging by cradling said pizza. “The comments are even better, ‘Suddenly I have a deep craving for pizza, deliver immediately xoxo?’ Dominos tweeted - ‘We still deliver 24/7 with a hot and fresh guarantee - we won’t drop your pie to catch some flies!’ They tried at that one. Joe’s Pizza tweeted - ‘Spider-man is NOT employed by us, please stop asking… But our pizzas are Spider-man approved for sure!’” And there was a picture of him standing awkwardly in the shop.

Peter groaned, “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope!” Deadpool giggled gleefully, “It’s already a huge meme. Delivery boy Spidey. It’s great.” He happily reached around for one of the boxes, peeling it open as Peter looked off in horror. “Oh dear,” he turned the box toward Peter, revealing a kinda sad pizza that was squished up into one side of the box in an upside down mess. “I hate to break the news… but pizza delivery is definitely not in your career options.”

And something in Peter _broke_ . Because he just started laughing and he couldn’t stop. And then Deadpool started too. And it just kept going, kept going as tears began to well up in his eyes. “Oh god, _please_ , please - stop - it hurts - my spleen - oh _god_ -”

“Pizza - Spidey - I’m gonna piss - fuck -”

It took awhile for them to stop. But when they finally did, they began to eat said pizza. Each of them angled slightly away from the other, in some unspoken rule of _privacy_ for masked identities. They occasionally chuckled at the pizza fiasco to themselves, but said no more. It was comfortable, it was nice. Eventually, when there was no more pizza, and the mask were rolled down again, Peter dared a glance over.

Deadpool was silent, his legs swinging, as he hummed something that suspiciously sounded like _Waterfalls_ by TLC. “Thanks ‘Pool.”

The mask glanced up, white eyes going wide, “Yeah, yah, Spidey, anytime.”

He grinned, “Really.”

Pool looked back down again, “Anytime.”

“I really do have to go now though…”

Deadpool nodded slowly, “Yeah, like RL stuffs? I get it.”

Peter stood, reluctantly, “Um, yeah I got sch-” Shit don’t say school _you idiot_ , “-work tomorrow. Lot of work, early day.” Deadpool just shrugged absently. Shit this wasn’t going good. He patted his pockets (thank you Mr. Stark including those) for a piece of paper…

\---

POV Wade

(This is a disaster.)

[a train wreck-]

(He’s gonna be a wreck, when Spidey finally realizes we are batshit crazy-)

[-and that we kill people for money-]

(-tell that to the dead pedo in the basement bleeding from his cock-)

[-that’s called _charity work_ ]

 _SHUT UP!_ Wade pleads. Everything was going great. It was just fine. They had stopped some baddies, got pizza, and bonded. He hasn’t remembered the last time he laughed that hard…

[don’t deserve it]

But now Spidey had to go, and Wade was just barely holding his inner turmoil bullshit inside.

(He’s going to leave and _never_ come back.)

[tonight was a mistake]

He laughed hollowly, “Yeah, work, delivering pizzas doesn’t cut the rent check, right?”

(You don’t cut it. He’s trying to escape _you_.)

[nicely, because he is nice - too nice]

There is a tap on his shoulder and he looks up. Spider-man is bashfully holding out a piece of paper. “Call me, if, y’know, you get any more information on the case, or something…”

(Oh my-)

[GOD OH MYGOD THERE IS A GOD SPIDEY JUST TODL US TO CALL HIM HE LIKES US HE REALLY LIKES US]

(I think he’s broken. He’s finally broken-)

[RESPOND IDIOT, HUG HIM, KISS HIM, GRAB HIS-]

Wade grabs the paper, trying to steady his hands, keep them from shaking. “Yeah, man, Spidey-man, of course, the case, yes I’ll keep you posted on it all.”

(Is this real? Are we tripping on acid?)

“Great,” Spidey waves, and then he is zipping away. Just like that. After shattering Wade Wilson’s world.

(We’re so fucked.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: Waterfall - TLC
> 
> We are getting closer to exciting time travel! The wait is agonizing. But Pizza Parker... I couldn't resist. D:


	4. Crazy for you

_September 17th 2018, Monday - morning  
_ POV Peter

The chemistry test went fairly well, considering the fact that Peter was just running on pure adrenaline at this point. By the time he got home that night, and finished the homework he had put off in lieu of attempting to search for the names Deadpool had provided, he only managed to get two hours of sleep.

And neither MJ or Ned had any sort of sympathy for him at lunch… But Harry did. Harry Osborn was a senior, who had half days as most of his time senior year was actually spent at Oscorp - training with his father on taking over the family business or whatever. He was a jock, he was rich, he was popular - he was basically everything that Peter wasn’t. So, that is why he found it weird when Harry started talking to him. They were introduced at the Oscorp’s lab Peter’s sophomore year, and then as Harry recognized his face around school -  he started approaching him more and more.

And even though Harry had a lot of friends, the few times that actually could stay for lunch at school, he always sat with Peter, MJ and Ned.  “Late night, Pete?”

Peter groaned from where his head was currently planted on the table, “Yeahh, this research presentation is kicking my ass.” Which wasn’t a complete lie… It was taking him more time than he would have liked truthfully.

“You know I can just extend your deadline, right?” Harry offered with a small grin. God, he looked like a freaking saint, dark curly hair and warm brown eyes.

Peter groaned, “No, I can’t, but thank you… I will make the deadline, I shouldn’t have procrastinated, it’s my own fault.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, Pete.” He turned to MJ and began questioning her about Greek mythology. She indulged him.

Which gave Peter a moment to lean over to Ned, as he was in need of his friend’s insane computer skills. He hadn’t been able to find anything on the names. Not even Mr. Davis’s. If it weren’t for that fact he would have almost suspected Deadpool just made up a bunch of names. But oddly he didn’t question it. Didn’t even question him when they went on patrol last night. It was almost eerie how much things just felt… Right with Deadpool? Like he could trust him? Like he had known him? It was a risk. But the names had to be legit. Which meant that they were erased or hidden in the database. Which meant - Deadpool was right. Somebody was actively taking these people and making them disappear.

It made his stomach turn. “Ned?”

The boy looked up at him, with a silent question on his face.

“Are you free after school for that robotics project?”

He smiled, “Sure, Pete, I was planning on staying after anyway.”

They fell into a companionable silence, as it couldn’t really be discussed in front of Harry. So, Peter’s mind drifted in and out, briefly listening to MJ and Harry discuss the homoerotic aspects of Greek mythology with a smile.

\---

_Monday - afternoon_

After school Ned and Peter, with the addition of MJ who joined them with a shrug and thinly veiled curiosity, all sat in the corner of the library. Ned was currently muttering under his breath as he dug deep into the web, trying to uncover some “deeply encrypted nobody wants this to be seen shit” in his words.

And MJ was a curious person, and she was also resourceful.  And he always appreciated her insight… Except in this instance. “So, where exactly did you get this mysterious list of names?” MJ asked, hand in chin, not missing a beat. Peter had filled them in on Miles’s uncle being missing and going to his apartment. But he may have left out the details of a certain person.

But he was already so tired that his brain short circuited without supplying any sort of feasible lie. “Uhhh…. A friend?”

“A friend?” MJ repeats slowly, easily seeing through Peter’s reluctance to talk about the subject. Damn her.

“Does this have anything to do with webbing around delivering pizzas?” Ned supplied oh-so-helpfully from the computer. Damn him.

Peter knew he had been too lucky not to hear anything about the pizza incident all day. He had been under the wrong impression that his friends were maybe being merciful. “I thought we weren’t going to bring that up?”

“Oh, Peter, we were _always_ going to bring it up,” MJ said with a smirk, luckily sidetracked by this new development.

Ned shakes his head, “Seriously, dude, it is a huge meme, it is everywhere… I have like fifty different ones saved on my phone from last night alone.”

“Twitter is blowing up, it is on the trending page #spidelivery.”

Peter groaned, “I hate everything… Can’t a guy eat pizza in peace? Is nothing sacred anymore?”

“Maybe don’t go decked out as Spider-man?” Ned offered.

That was fair. He crosses his arms, “I’m questioning the value of Twitter.”

“Actually, you might want to consider making Spider-man an account,” MJ pipes up. Ned and Peter both stop and look at her in shock. She raises an hand, “Hear me out - remember hurricane Sandy, when people were live tweeting their locations to be rescued? That saved a lot of lives.”

Ned nodded, seeing where this was going, “Yeah, it was freaking amazing.”

MJ grinned, “Revolutionary… You see, Pete, Twitter can be used as your platform to reach out to the public. Warn them of danger, or even tweet the NYPD of your latest bust.”

“Wow…” Peter said because he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that before. He was still handwriting notes and webbing them to criminals. But if he could slide into those DMs… He laughed at the thought of sliding into the NYPD’s DMs, “Yeah, MJ, that’s really brilliant.”

She looked smug, “I know.”

“You’d have to get a burner phone, for sure, and you’ll surely get _a lot_ of spam _but_ definitely worth it,” Ned thought out loud.

And so they spent the rest of the afternoon debating on different twitter handles, and laughing at various photos of Spider-man swinging around a pizza. One with Spider-man in a Mario hat and mustache had him in stitches. It was a good afternoon, fun. And even though Ned declared he still need more time to get through the encryption, by the time they parted ways that afternoon - Peter felt lighter. He was exhausted, but he felt better than he had in a long time.

\---  
_Monday - night  
_ POV Wade

Ever since last night Deadpool felt like he was on cloud nine. He had taken out the crumpled piece of paper several times over the course of the next few hours, just confirm he hadn’t hallucinated it all. But it was there, the most beautiful ten digits he had ever gotten. Spider-man had given him his phone number, they went on patrol and ate pizza together… Spider-man wasn’t disgusted  or generally annoyed with him like the other Avengers or X-Men... It blew his mind.

He tried texting Spider-man a few times that night, asking if he wanted to patrol together again… But he didn’t want to bother him without any information on the case. Besides every text he tried just sounded awkward. Regardless, none of it could dampen on his mood as he decided to patrol the city himself on the off chance he’d run into his favorite arachnid.

He had a few drug busts, also halted the illegal purchase of sexual favors with a witty comment or two. And as the night got later he didn’t hold much hope of seeing his buggy friend for the night. So, he was strolling down the street to get some chimichangas, humming to himself. “I see you through the smokey air, can’t you feel the weight of my stare?”

[you’re so close but still a world away, what I’m dying to say, is that--]

There was a cry, “My purse! Stop him, someone please!”

Wade watched as a man came charging past, clutching a woman’s red handbag. Red was not his color, totally conflicted with the whole dirty brown sweater thing he had going on. So, Wade chased after. “I’m crazy for you! Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true~”

[I’ve never wanted anyone like this--]

At this point the man realized someone was pursuing him so he sped up and cut into an alleyway. However, he ran into some trash bins as he checked over his shoulder to see Deadpool on close on his heels. Panicked, he pushed back up to his feet, as he sang on.

“You’ll feel it in my kiss,” Deadpool made a kissing noise as he punched the man squarely in the face, smashing his nose easily, “I’m crazy for you, crazy for you~” He sang cheerily as blood surged from the man’s broken nose as he went down with a groan.

(A true patron of the people…)

\---  
 _September 18th 2018, Tuesday - 1:17am  
_ POV Peter

Peter didn’t make it on patrol that night. In fact, he didn’t make it much further than his bed. By the time he got home he had warmed up some leftovers (as Aunt May was working a late shift at the hospital) and promptly passed out in his bed.

By the time he woke up, and looked down at his phone it read _1:18am_ with several texts. Two from Aunt May, asking that he eat and reminding him that she was working late and to have a good night. The second was from Ned which read: _9:32pm ‘wont believe wat i found talk tmrrw’_.

And although he was tempted to call him now, he opened up his last next from an unknown number. It was a link to a Youtube video, and when he opened it he was not disappointed. The music was a weird little tune, and the video was clips compiled from people’s phones and uploads of Spider-man swinging through the city carrying pizza. He couldn’t help but laugh. It was absolutely ridiculous.

He texted back: _1:28am ‘that is ridiculous’_

The reply back was almost instant: _1:28am ‘i kw rite webs? isnt the interwebs a g8 place?’_

Peter grinned, it was Deadpool. Before he could respond another text was sent: _1:30am_ _‘missed u on patrol 2 nite’_

 _Sent: 1:32am_ _‘I will never, ever live it down… Yah got busy. Will be out tmrrw for sure may have got something to check out’_

_Received: 1:35am ‘naw itll stay after u die too ull never die it down its immortalized forever. oh lmk if need backup’_

_Sent: 1:37am ‘I fear you’re right about that… And definitely can use back up tmrrw. I’ll txt you.’_

_Received: 1:38am ‘baby im always rite, and sound good’_

_Sent: 1:39am ‘Sure you are. I gotta go to sleep ttyl Pool’_

_Received: 1:41am ‘nightynite spidey_

\---

_September 18th 2018, Tuesday - 7:30am_

Peter practically beelines it to Ned’s locker the next morning. To see Peter’s anxious face as soon as Ned closed his locker, well, the other boy was decidedly _not_ surprised. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, so what did you find?” He skipped right to the point, falling into step with his best friend as they headed to their respective homerooms.

“Well, I still couldn’t get access to the files on any of those people, someone really knows their stuff…” Peter sagged slightly, “But I did find out something interesting. All the files ghosted from the same server, the same facility.”

His heart raced, that could be their answer, their way in. “Were you able to locate where?”

Ned nodded, “Yeah some old police station downtown, it looks like it is used primarily for parole.”

Peter bounced with energy, “That makes perfect sense! I’ll have to check it out, send the exact location to my phone?”

“On it.”

\----

_Tuesday - afternoon_

_Sent: 2:43pm ‘Hey got a lead on our case meet me at_ [google map insert] _tonight at 8’_

_Received: 2:44pm ‘gotchya webs lets bash some heads’_

_Sent: 2:55pm ‘No hulk smashing we need to be stealthy’_

_Received: 3:01pm ‘stealth is my middle name’_

_Sent: 3:02pm ‘Why do I find that hard to believe? The first time we met weren’t you screaming John Farnham?”_

_Received: 3:08pm ‘1st of all i have skillz 2nd u knw Farnham im so happy rn 3rd u just dont knw talent when u hear it’_

_Sent: 3:10pm ‘Stealth Deadpool. Stealth. See you tonight.’_

_Received: 3:11pm ‘-kissy face emoji-’_

_\---_

_Tuesday - night_

Peter was anxious through dinner and if Aunt May noticed, she didn’t say anything, bless her soul. Instead they attempted to chat about normal things. Peter’s internship, school, and Ned’s mysterious date to prom. And throughout it he couldn’t wait to leave, it was terrible.

As soon as it reached 7:30pm, and he was retired to his room he was in his suit and out the window. He didn’t even really enjoy swinging through the city, mind on a one-way track to figure out what was going on… He knew Miles was slowly getting more stressed and he was too… What if Deadpool had been right before? If these people were being taken, what were they being taken for? It couldn’t be good.

By the time he reached the location, he spotted a familiar figure sitting on the roof. He landed gracefully, raising a hand as the black and red figure stood to greet him. It was weird… Even though he didn’t know him that well, Peter was actually comforted by Deadpool’s presence here. “Hey, you ready?”

Deadpool rocked back on his heels and nodded, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Peter nodded, and began his descent around the side of the building to find a suitable opening with the help of Karen. Deadpool just followed his cue. They were dead silent, and if there was anybody in the building, they certainly wouldn’t guess anyone had come in. Peter was actually impressed on how stealthy Deadpool could be, when he wanted to be.

After some assessing, Peter waved Deadpool over to a room that stationed several computers, hoping to dig up something there. He was just having Karen help him forge a log in when Deadpool breathed. “Something doesn’t _feel_ right, Spidey… I don’t know, I just got a real bad feeling…”

Peter tried to shove it from his mind, typing quickly on the computer the username and password Karen provided. The sooner they got the information and got out - the better.

“It just seems too easy… Like, a parole office? I would have guessed that, hell, I did…”

Peter hit enter and waited while the computer booted. But something was wrong… The screen of the computer went blue, and there was a click… And his spidey-sense started going haywire.

“ _Detecting a concerning amount of methane-”_ Karen warned in his suit.

“It’s a trap-!” Peter yelled to Deadpool, but the other was already moving. He tackled Peter to the ground, and not moments later there was an explosion. And heat, smoke, and fire enveloped them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So... Time travel will be soon I promise, I swear! There is still one more chapter that has to happen before we go back in time... It was supposed to just be this one but I had to split it up because this one just kind of got out of hand. Don't stone me. Please.
> 
> Songs: Crazy for You - Madonna (queen love her)  
> The song in the video of Spider-man pizza is 'The Game Pizza Theme - Spiderman 2 for PS2': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czTksCF6X8Y
> 
> Also - thank you all for the kudos and reading it makes me happy (:


	5. When shit hits the fan you should duck

POV Peter

It is hot and hard to breath. Even in the amazing suit that Mr. Stark had designed, he couldn’t add _everything_ that he really wanted to without limiting Peter’s capabilities. But neither of those things bothered him as much as feeling trapped. He was pressed into the ground, and he could feel panic rising in his chest… It reminded him of concrete collapsing… Being trapped under settling rubble as Peter Parker. Unable to move, or call for help.

“Shh, Spidey it’s okay,” he heard mumbled in his ears when they finally stopped ringing. The heat was less intense, but there was still smouldering smoke filling his lungs. He heaved out a cough, and mercifully, the pressure on his back was lifted. He stumbled to his feet, crouching, trying to keep away from the billows of smoke surrounding them. He was so disoriented that he was very grateful when someone grabbed him by the elbow and gently lead him out.

Once outside, the night air was so crisp and fresh in his lungs… He heaved in a large breathes, so much so that it hurt, and he just started heaving and hacking again. But eventually he was breathing deeply through his nose, trying to quell the panic rising in his chest, he glanced up.

He held his breath as his heart raced, panic coming yet again. Deadpool was… His suit was in ruins, melted and burnt away into skin that was scorched with angry red burns. His left side took the brunt of the blast, because even part of his mask was gone, revealing a deepening frown and a scaly red blister.

“Woahh, Spidey, _breathe_ ,” the lips were moving but it took Peter a minute to process what was being said. He couldn’t breathe. He sucked in oxygen greedily, but it wasn’t filling his lungs…

“Peter, you’re having a panic attack,” Karen informed him helpfully from inside the suit.

Deadpool approached him, walking with a slight limp (probably from the burns), and soon there was a soothing hand on his back. “Come on, breathe in -” he sucked in a breath in and held it, “and--- out.” He let it go slowly, letting Deadpool coach him through hyperventilating.

When he had finally calmed his racing heart some, he looked up again to see Deadpool watching him intently. Having noticed Peter had calmed down, the barest hint of a smile appeared on those lips, though it pulled painfully at the red blister. “How are you okay--?” Peter blurted out because there was no way Deadpool should be able to stand the pain right now… With burns covering more than half his body. His chest, and the expanse of his wide back, was littered with them.

It was the wrong thing to say. Deadpool _flinched_ and stepped from Peter’s personal bubble. The smile dropped and his posture becoming rigid so fast it gave Peter whiplash. His lips twisted into something harsh, defensive, “Yeah, we’re disgusting, no monstrous, to look at, we know…”

What the hell did that even _mean_ ? Peter straightened up, taking a step towards Deadpool, but the other’s scowl stopped him in his tracks. There was a dark energy about the other, one that he hadn’t experienced before. “ _See_ \-- doesn’t even want to be near us,” Deadpool sneered.

That pissed Peter off, “What do you _mean_ \-- your burns-- are you in pain-- do we need a hospital-- why did you--?” Why did you protect him? Why did he sacrifice himself for Peter when he barely knew him? Why was he acting this way? Panic and frustration swelled in his chest, as he couldn’t convey any of the many questions racing through his mind.

Tension deflated out of Deadpool like a punctured balloon. “You- you didn’t know?”

“Know? Know what?”

A forced smile, “I heal Webs, it is like, kinda my thing…” He gestured down to his torso which had been sporting angry red burns that were now turning a light pink. The skin still was scored various levels of healing sores, but the burns were fading fast.

Peter stared in astonishment, “That’s amazing…”

Deadpool let out a shocked laugh, and immediately was wheezing from the smoke still in his lungs, “First-- time -- I’ve heard that one.”

Peter shakes his head in disbelief because it really was amazing. The burns had almost faded into non existence at this point. He’s just about to open his mouth to say ‘thank you for saving me by literally sacrificing yourself even if you can heal’ when there is a familiar sound.

The sound of Iron-man’s jets. Well, this was going to suck, like, a lot. It had been a good stretch, at least six months, since Peter had needed any help from Iron-man. And even longer since he had gotten a proper lecture. But he could feel it coming now as Iron-man landed gracefully between Peter and Deadpool. “Spider-man,” he says coolly, in his lecture voice. Peter hung his head.

Tony turned his attention to their guest next, leveling him with an ice cold, “Deadpool.”

Deadpool fidgeted, angling the exposed parts of his body away, trying to make himself look smaller somehow. “Well, will you look at the time? The annual Harry Potter marathon is on tonight, wouldn’t wanna miss it!” He flashed a white smile, but it was clearly forced as he backed away quickly. Leaving a resigned Peter with an angry Tony Stark.

\---

_September 18th 2018, Tuesday - later that night_

“I thought we were on a roll, kid,” Tony said, shaking his head as they sat in the back of the car Happy was currently driving.

Peter was too tired to really care. They had waited for the fire department to get there after scanning the building, and thank goodness there was no one except Deadpool and Peter inside. And Peter didn’t have much more than a smoky lung and wounded pride to contend with. So it wasn’t the worst possible thing to have happened. “Me too,” he mumbled in agreement, ignoring Happy’s stare through the driver’s mirror.

“At least no one got hurt,” Tony said softly, oddly calm about the whole blowing up a building thing. After an initial lecture earlier on safety and not blowing up stuff - Mr. Stark was perfectly patient. Peter almost brought up the fact that, that wasn’t entirely true - Deadpool got hurt. But Tony carried on, suddenly getting to the point, “how do you know Deadpool?”

Peter perked up, at least this was a chance to maybe get Iron-man’s help with the whole disappearing people. He hadn’t wanted to bring him into it before, thinking he could handle it, but given the explosion tonight, perhaps he was a little over his head. “I meet him recently… We were both looking for the same person, and then we realized more people have gone missing too. Mr. Stark, I think there is something going on-”

Tony frowns, “Who is missing?”

“A friend’s uncle, Mr. Davis, he was on parole and he just-”

“Are you sure he didn’t just-?”

“-He wouldn’t just leave. And more have gone missing, so Deadpool and I-”

“-Tell you what, I will look into it. If, and only if, you stay away from Deadpool.”

He stared, shocked. It was so odd for Mr. Stark to be so adamant about him staying away from Deadpool. He was a little strange, yes, but definitely not a bad person… And - “He saved my life.”

Tony sighed, “Kid, Deadpool… _Wade Wilson_ is not a good person. He’s a mercenary. He kills people for money.”

Wade Wilson.. Deadpool’s name was Wade. It felt weird knowing his name, without his permission, it made him feel dirty. And he was a mercenary… Peter had seen the katanas on his back, the guns and knives he carried in physically impossible amounts… He just never really thought about how he used them. But it made sense and he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Even so… “But he saved my life.” And he doesn’t seem like an entirely bad person, just… Really lonely.

Tony made a frustrated noise, “You really have a good heart, Peter, but… This just isn’t a good idea. Deadpool is crazier than a sack of cats.”

“Yeah and _he_ is quite well versed in explosives,” Happy adds from the driver’s seat.

“Happy-” Tony hisses at the front seat, but clearly he had been on the same page.

Peter’s blood runs cold. And all he feels is _rage_ . His jaw tightens, “Are you accusing _Deadpool_ of setting off the explosion?”

Tony holds up his hands, trying to pacify Peter without success, “I wouldn’t put it past him. He can be clever… Deadpool will use what he has to, to get close to a target. Did you really not even _Google_ the guy you were working with before just trusting him completely?”

He didn’t like where this conversation was going _at all_. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, “So, what, you think this whole disappearing people is a lie?”

Tony didn’t blink, which only confirmed Peter’s statement, “Deadpool is known to kill bad people… Are you sure he isn’t just killing them, then running to you - telling you they are missing?”

He feels sick. “Stop the car.”

“Sir?” Happy slows the car.

“I’m sorry, Peter, but-”

“Stop. The. Car.” Peter grits through his teeth, opening the door the second Happy has slowed down enough to let him out.

\---

_September 19th 2018, Wednesday - early morning_

Peter couldn’t sleep. By the time he had webbed home, he was shaking and anxious to go out again. He wanted to run until he passed out. Something to just burn out all the anxious energy, as he tossed and turned in his bed half the night. His laptop sat at his desk, mocking him, but he couldn’t bring himself to open it.

His phone went off a few times.

_Ned Leeds - Received: 10:33pm ‘dude r u ok?? heard there was an explosion’_

_Tony Stark - Received: 11:59pm ‘I’m sorry. Just be smart, be safe. Let me know if you need anything.’_

_Deadpool - Received: 1:12am ‘hope everything went good with ironass, sry 4 ditching u’_

_Received 1:24am ‘hope ur ok, sry didnt realize it was a trap we will find another lead’_

_Received 1:44am ‘r u mad at me? Ill leave u alone srry’_

Tony’s doubts haunted him as he read the texts because there was no way that this could be an act. It would be sick, terrible to manipulate someone like this. He couldn’t believe Deadpool was really doing that. It couldn’t be true. He sat up, shooting a quick text before reaching for his laptop.

_To Deadpool - Sent: 1:58am ‘Not mad, just beat. Regroup soon?’_

There was no immediate response, so he opened his laptop carefully. Setting out to do what he should have done a while ago.

Google - search - Deadpool.

\---

_September 22nd 2018, Saturday - morning_

The next few days go in a blur. Peter tries his best to focus on school, but it is hard because his head is swimming with some many conflicting emotions. Homecoming is getting closer but he can’t find the energy to care. Even as Ned, MJ, and Harry talk excitedly about it. His internship presentation is the day after homecoming, and he just has two powerpoint slides done.

And he is currently avoiding Deadpool like the plague. Because he hasn’t made up his mind yet. He’s decided that he doesn’t believe that Deadpool would make everything up. It was just too… conniving. But that didn’t change what Peter _did_ find about him. He did kill people for money. And he was good at it- he had a high body count. And what was _worse_ was that Peter had subconsciously known that Deadpool wasn’t kosher. Otherwise he would have Googled him. He would of told MJ and Ned about him. He was happy to just be blissfully ignorant of it. But now it was in his face, in bright neon signs.

 _Deadpool_ _\- Received: 10:00am ‘patrol 2nite?’_

Peter sighed and just pocketed the phone. He was running out of excuses to tell, and he was pretty sure the other was beginning to notice. For now, though, he had work to do at the lab. He quickly packed his bag, stopping only to eat some cereal at Aunt May’s insistence.

\---

_Saturday - afternoon_

The afternoon was actually pretty productive. Peter was able to get at least half of his PowerPoint done, and get caught up on the majority of his school work. He was just about to go get something for dinner (he had learned better than to eat in the lab now), when Miles walked in.

He looked anxious, hurrying straight to his workstation, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down anxiously. He didn’t acknowledge anyone like he usually did, often the one to at least give a polite ‘hello’. Peter remembered that his uncle was still missing, a fresh wave of guilt giving over as he realized fretting over his own morality questions was a luxury. One he didn’t have right now. He swallowed the knot in his throat and approached, “Hey Miles.”

His voice was soft, gentle, but Miles still jumped in his chair. Looking wide-eyed at Peter, quickly tabbing out of the page on his desktop computer, “Oh, hey Pete, what’s up?”

There was a flash drive in the tower. They were not allowed to put external hard-drives in company computers, there was too many confidential files and research for the chance of being infected by a virus. It was ballsy of Miles to do it here at his workstation. Peter played it cool, “Not much, was going to get something for dinner, wanna come?”

Miles smiles sadly, “No, sorry, got too much to catch up on, you know? Next time?”

Peter nodded, and continued on his way out. Pausing to wait outside. He waited about fifteen minutes before he saw Miles’s figure. He followed, trying to tell himself that it was all nothing… But it was better safe than sorry.

\---

POV Wade

Wade threw his phone. He couldn’t take staring at the screen any longer. He listened as it landed on the hardwood floor with a _thunk_ , not nearly satisfied enough. He wished it would shatter into a million pieces, so he couldn’t pick it back up and obsess over it again.

(Great another tantrum. Grow up. He doesn’t want to see you anymore. Get over it.)

[probably because we throw tantrums]

(Probably can’t stand to look, so disgusting.)

[maybe he thinks we’re contagious]

Wade squeezed the cotton top of his mask, breathing heavily through his nose. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up.” He felt a little suffocated by it, but he also felt worse without it. After the little explosion, and Iron-Asshole, he had ran his little toosh home and quickly pulled on a fresh suit. It hadn’t come off since.

(Gross. You 100% smell.)

[thank god we don’t have noses]

He sniffed, and sighed, yeah he probably _should_ take a shower. But it had been days… And Spider-man was avoiding him. At first Wade could convince himself it was nothing. But it wasn’t.

(Yeah, so stop texting him and looking so desperate.)

[does it really matter? it’s not like we have a reputation to keep up]

They were right.

(Wait- what-)

[really?! OHMGEE FINALLY SOME RECOGNITION]

He couldn’t just wallow in his misery anymore. He stood, kicking the door open to his trashy loft/rental. Time to knock some heads together.

The phone lay forgotten.

\---

POV Peter

The longer he followed Miles, the more concerned for his safety Peter became. He was heading for a run-down part of the city. It was a ghost town of rundown factories and buildings that were soon to be condemned and replaced with new life. So was the way of the city. When they finally reached their destination, Peter regretted not changing into his Spider-man outfit. But if it were something stupid, he had felt it would be better to intervene as Peter… And then he was too concerned to let Miles from his sight. Now he was royally screwed.

He tensed as he saw Miles was greeted by a man in a black suit, with greased back hair, that just spoke bad-guy. His spidey-senses tingle as he snuck in after them five minutes later. He was, for once, grateful for his enhanced hearing as he listened…

“Did you get all the files on Weapon X?” the man in the black suit asked.

“Yeah, but you’re not getting anything until you show me my uncle.”

Peter felt a surge of both fondness and protectiveness for Miles. He was brave, to go through all this to find his uncle, as Peter knew he might of done the same at his age… Frustrated with nobody helping, nobody caring, he took matters into his own hands. It was honorable but also incredibly dangerous and _stupid_. But maybe if Peter had told him everything he had found, or was at least honest with him, none of this would have happened.

“Clever boy,” mumbled the man in black, if not a little ominously.

Peter had a sinking feeling, he pulled out his phone quickly. _To Deadpool - Sent: 3:55pm ‘may need back up asap [google maps location marker]’_ He pocketed it, just as Miles and Mr. Creepy entered an new part of the building. He crouched around the corner and watched. It was strangely high-tech in the rest of the ruins of the building. The door itself took a few minutes to open as there was a few security measures. Once they opened it revealed a sterile, white.

It was a laboratory. Peter ran, ducking low, to make it through the doors before they sealed shut again. He was thankful the lab was empty except for the three of them, and hid back, listening in.

The man lead Miles over a man laid out on a table, currently knocked out by whatever cocktail of drugs that dangling from his IV. “Uncle!” Miles cried, rushing to take his hand, subtly checking for a pulse (smart boy).

“Now, the files.”

Miles seemed to calm, having found his Uncle was still alive, and reluctantly reached into his pocket - holding out the flashdrive he had taken from Oscorp.

“Thank you, nice doing business with you.”

“Wait, what did you give him? You have to wake him up.”

The man smiled, “I have to do no such thing. You’ve seen him. That is the only part of our deal.”

Miles tensed, “No, you have to let him go, that was part of the deal.”

“Letting him go was never part of the deal.” The man in black turned, and he pulled out a needle from his suit, “And neither was letting you go.”

Miles, to his credit, made an effort to run. But the man expected this and was on him in seconds. He went to stab the needle in the young boy’s neck when his arm was suddenly snagged back. Miles turned to see Peter Parker standing there, web stopping the needle in the man’s hand. “ _Peter_?” he said shocked - expression going from confusion, to realization, to panic again.

“Miles,” Peter said calmly, as the man’s attention was now hyper-focused on him with intense curiosity. “Run.”

Miles, bless him, does exactly as he is asked and runs for the door. Except it isn’t exactly easy to get out of. He turns to the computers and begins pressing all the buttons. If Peter weren’t busy, currently dodging an increasingly aggressive (and surprisingly fast) man, he would of made a joke about pressing the big red button.

“Initiating count back sequence in sixty seconds,” the computer announced. Which drew the man fighting Peter to attention because he shoved him out of the way and dove for the computer. He began typing furiously. “Count back imminent in thirty-eight seconds…”

Peter and Miles took the distraction as an advantage and tried to wake Mr. Davis, but he wasn’t responsive. “Twenty-two seconds… twenty-one seconds…”

Something he did made the door unlock, slowly lifting, Peter helped Miles shoulder his uncle. “Get him out,” he whispered. As the countdown continued. There was no time for Miles to question him.

Peter grinned and turned his attention back to the immediate threat. He webbed the man in black, already running for the doors, “Not so fast, didn't the party just begin? Isn't, like, rude for the host to leave first?”

The man growled, wheeling around to strike out at Peter, desperate to get away. This gave Miles enough time to drag his uncle out to safety. “Ten, nine, eight…” 

Peter watched as Miles rounded the corner in relief. He felt something prick and then sting, as it dove into the muscle of his neck. He yelled in shock, flailing, trying to get the needle from his neck. “Nice try, _Spider-man_ ,” he hissed with pleasure as Peter’s body went limp.

He fell to the floor, watching as the man runs away. The counter is echoing in his head, “three… two… one…” There is a bright light, and Peter wonders distantly if that is the bomb going off or just the drugs. He can’t be sure. Oh well, he tried.

\---

 _???  
_ POV Peter

Peter woke up to his head spinning. It felt like he was falling, and the world was spinning round and round, even though he could feel fresh dirt beneath him. He dug his fingernails in to the dirt, the smell fresh, pungent. It made him nauseous, he turned his head over and vomited.

“Must of been a fun ride,” a woman’s voice mocked.

“He’s coming down from the drugs,” grumbled a low voice that was oddly familiar.

“Yeah, well, I’ll leave him to you,” she says before leaving.

There is a moment of peace, which Peter is thankful for, as he wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. He tries to sit up, but his head throbs and he is dangerously close to dry heaving again. So he lays back.

“So…” The voice says, smoothly, “You’re going to tell me who you are, why you’re here, and _how_ you got here.”

Despite the fact his head is spinning a mile a minute, Peter smiles at the authority in his voice, what else was he going to do at this point? “Would like you to know what as well? You left that one out.”

He can practically feel the glower, “Great, _another_ smart-ass. Just what we needed.”

Peter opens his eyes, blinking to adjust to the dim light of an oil lantern. Sitting across from him is a younger, but no less hairy, Wolverine. He laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE FINALLY MADE IT GUYS WE ARE IN THE PAST I'M SO READY 
> 
> This chapter was a long haul, damn. I'm not completely happy with it, and might tweak the action scenes later... But the plot will remain the same.  
> Also - try not to be too mad at Tony, he means well, he really does. He's just trying to look out for Peter. Even if he sucks at it.  
> Also - don't be mad at my baby Miles he just wants to protect his family. 
> 
> There is no song for this piece - but my tune for this chapter is (added to the playlist):
> 
> True Colors - Cyndi Lauper
> 
> <3


	6. Hopelessly devoted to you

_???  
_ POV Peter

Peter had only met Wolverine, or Logan, once or twice. And they really only had the briefest of interactions which was mediated by SHIELD agents. Peter never got to really talk to Wolverine, but he was infinitely proud of the one time he made Logan chuckle at an off-handed comment he made at SHIELD’s expense on their journey back in a private jet.

Peter did, however, recognize that there was something off about this Logan. He studied the man, crouched down before him. For one, he was missing some worry lines in his face, ones that Peter had come to characterize with him. His hair was a thick wavy brown, and his body tense but not defensive. He was almost youthful, free from a familiar weight. Like the worst thing that ever happened to him had not yet happened, or he had forgotten it. It was bewildering. He wondered if this was some bizarre dream.

He isn’t sure what to tell, truth be told, because Logan doesn’t know his true identity. And part of him would really like to keep it that way. Tony knew, and he suspected some of the other Avengers did as well but they didn’t push, and so did his friends - MJ, Ned and now… Miles. But that was different. He did like Logan, he did trust him, but he just wasn’t ready… Especially now.

So, he decided to go with half-truth, “I’m Peter Parker, and I was looking into a missing person’s case which led me here…” He glanced about, finally feeling well enough to take in his surroundings. He was in a green canvas tent lit by an oil lamp, he was slouched down on naked dirt, no grass but, thankfully, no mud either. It was night, he could tell because it was dark from what he could tell from the flaps behind Logan. The air was warm, more midsummer kind of night, than early fall. He shook his head, and it began to throb again. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on _not_ vomiting the nothingness in his stomach for the second time. He was beginning to suspect he had a concussion. He breathed, and Logan waited for him to continue with surprising patience. “I don’t… remember how I got here. I don’t even know where here is? Last I knew I was in Hell’s Kitchen…”

“Hell’s Kitchen, as in…. New York?” Logan murmured, bewildered.

Peter nodded, and there was a sharp whistle from the front of the tent. “You’re a long ways away from Kansas, Dorothy,” said another familiar voice. A voice that made a knot in Peter’s throat, one that made his eyes snap open, nausea be damned.

“Thought you were on patrol,” Logan sighed, not moving to acknowledge the man behind him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss me,” teased the man, as he stepped closer and, luckily, further into the light. The voice matched. The… the everything else didn’t not. Blonde, is the first thing Peter thinks. Because he has thick, blonde hair. And blue is the second thing he thinks, and quickly decides that is his favorite thing, the bright blue eyes that twinkle with mischief, amusement. It didn’t match… The voice… Of Deadpool, of the man in the mask, the one with scarred skin and a sorry, frowning mouth. “The more you push me away, the more I know you just really don’t wanna get hurt.”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Logan mumbled.

Peter almost couldn’t breath. Wilson. Wade Wilson. Deadpool. “See something you like?” Wilson asked, hand on his hip. And Peter feels his face flush because, yeah, he totally was staring. He looked down quickly, to which Wilson hummed appreciatively, “Shy? It’s okay, baby, look all you want.”

He promptly ignored him because he didn’t really know what was going on… But he didn’t need Deadpool on his case right now. Or, at the very least, trying to get close to Peter Parker. Spider-man was okay… Different. Because there was a barrier between them. The mask, yes, but also Spider-man could be better than Peter. Deadpool and he could be friends. He recentered himself and looked back to Wolverine, “Where am I, exactly, if you don’t mind me asking…?” Obviously he was no longer in New York. He really doubted he was in the right universe at this point. Both Deadpool and Wolverine were _all_ wrong.

“In hell?” Logan offered, wry smile. Who said the man didn’t have a sense of humor?

But he didn’t offer up much more than that. Which Peter expected really, as he had not yet given him any indication that he could be trusted. And he didn’t really feel he could trust them either. He had to start working on that. But he was getting tired… Head injury… Yes, head injury, he could definitely use this. “Sorry, I can’t really remember… Everything is fuzzy.” Which to be fair, it kind of was. Not a complete lie, “What day is it?”

Wade answered him, as it would appear the date wasn’t really confidential information, “July twenty-fifth.”

 _July!_ That was months… a _year_ away. There was definitely more missing to his memory. His panic was audible, as he gasped, “What _year_ is it?”

“July, twenty-fifth, two thousand and eleven.”

_July 25, 2011._

Seven years ago.

 _Seven years_.

In the past. He can feel the panic attack coming, and he tries to hold his breath, tries to prevent it. But it is hopeless.

\---

 _September 22nd 2018, Saturday - night  
_ POV Wade

Fighting crime wasn’t satisfying.

[stopping baddies without slicing and dicing is _so boring_ ]

(Seriously… Are you _really_ still considering changing for Spider-man? Because I thought we agreed that ship has sailed.)

He looked down at the men he had knocked out, of course he had taken a knife to the back as a result of his hesitance. His hesitancy to pull out lovely Bea and Arthur, his hesitancy to kill or maim. He had intended to, perhaps, when he stormed out of his apartment. He had intended to find some scum to erase from the planet, just to spite Spidey. Just to prove his point. Just to make him feel better.

But anger ceased, and just turned into frustration. He ran about the city, hoping to run into Spidey as he took down petty criminals… Just hoping he hop down or swing in with a witty comment about Wade’s very inefficient way of travel. But no, there was nothing. And he was just feeling empty.

[you’re hopeless]

Wade breathed in deeply, the mask was suffocating him. He walked away from the sobbing thugs on the pavement, just because he didn’t do any permanent damage doesn't mean they don't deserve punishment. He yanked the knife from his back, warm blood trickled out and some went down his ass crack. Damn, he really would have to shower now.

(We really are…)

He started on his way home. Humming. “...Guess mine is not the first heart broken, my eyes are not the first to cry.”

(...I’m not the first to know, there’s just no getting over you-)

[-you know I’m just a fool who’s willing, to sit around and wait for you-]

“But baby, can’t you see, there’s nothing else for me to do? I’m hopelessly devoted to you...”

(-But now there’s no way to hide-)

[-since you pushed my love aside-]

“I’m outta my head, _hopelessly_ devoted to you!”

(Hopelessly devoted to you-)

[hopelessly devoted to you]

\---

 _July 25th 2011, Monday - 2 hours later  
_ POV Peter

Peter woke up spinning and dry heaving again, and silently prayed this wasn’t going to be a common occurrence for him. When his stomach finally decided to calm down, and the room stopped rocking around him like a terrible carnival ride he straightened up. Only, this time, he noted that his legs were bound. He frowned down at the ties, it was a fair precaution, but it didn’t make him any more happy about it.

That didn’t matter, though. He caught sight of a figure sitting cross legged in front of an oil lamp - that moved from the table to the floor also. It was Wade. He apparently was assigned the duty of watching Peter, _the captive_ , he thought a little bitterly.

If he noticed Peter was awake, which was probably hard not to given he had just been dry heaving moments earlier, he gave no indication of it. Perhaps, in a weird way, he was trying to give Peter some privacy. Instead of acknowledging Peter, he was hyper-focused on sharpening the edge of one of his swords with reverent care.

Peter decided to take advantage, and used the moment observe him more closely. Deadpool-or Wade Wilson, he supposed as he hadn’t _become_ Deadpool yet… This was the Wade Wilson of seven years ago. That meant he was… God, twenty-two? He did look young, especially now, in the soft yellow light. And he was smaller, Peter realized, leaner than Deadpool.  This was Wade Wilson before all the awful things in his file. Peter swallows, suddenly feeling sick again, but his throat is so _raw_ from bile and thirst.

Wade glances up, and seems to realize Peter’s distress because he scoots closer and hands Peter a canteen.

Peter is beyond grateful, “ _Thank_ you,” he croaks and takes a greedy swallow. He knows he should slow down, but he just gulps down the water like he hasn’t had any in days. In seven years. Wade just waits, and Peter eventually, a little sheepishly, hands him back an empty canteen, “m’sorry.”

Wade just takes it back silently, and it is kind of unnerving because normally he is a chatterbox. But now he is silent and staring at Peter with those blue eyes in such intensity. What is probably only a moment, but feels like an eternity, Wade goes back to his previous position. He turns one of the blades in his hand, inspecting it with some satisfaction. “I don’t trust you.”

Peter blinked at the calm statement and felt an itch of irritation. His head hurt. He was seven years in the past, didn’t know where he was, and he kind of had to pee. He blames all this for what he says next. “Oh really?” He rolled his shoulders, “I can’t see why not?!” He gestured, exasperated, “I only appeared out of nowhere not remembering how I got here, _or_ where and when here even is!”

Wade’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked, quite frankly, shocked and still clutching a _fucking_ _sword_. Which he was going to, probably, slice Peter in fucking half with… Goddamn him and his smart-ass mouth sometimes...

But then, like a damn being broken, Wade suddenly burst out laughing. He bent down, laughing _so hard_ , Peter actually feared he would accidently impale himself on his own sword. And it was infectious… It made Peter laugh too. Even though it hurt his tender throat, he couldn’t help it. They both just sat there wheezing.

When Wade finally caught his breath, he looked up at Peter. “I like you,” he says with such a bright smile that it makes Peter’s heart ache. It also makes him homesick for some reason.

Peter tries to fight a smile in response, and he fails miserably. “I thought you didn’t...” he says, maybe pouting just a little bit.

Wade has calmed, but his face is thoughtful as he turns back to his blades. He carefully sheathes them again. He speaks so softly Peter almost misses it, “Trust and like are two different things… I like you, but I know… I can’t trust you... Yet.”

\---

 _September 22nd 2018, Saturday - night  
_ POV Wade

(Please tell me you remembered to pay the water bill this time.)

“It only happened once,” Wade murmured as he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money anyway, he was just a little scatterbrained sometimes.

[...sometimes…]

(We need to have some _serious_ adult time where we talk about your finances-)

“Shut up,” Wade groaned and kicked his door open. He yanked off the mask for the first time in days because he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was exhausted… And he felt like his skin was crawling.

But there was an elephant in the room. A big, fat, pink elephant… He stared down at the phone sitting on his hardwood floor.

[check it maybe he responded finally]

(No. No. NO. Not worth it. Go take a shower.)

[ohgod maybe he responded check it check it]

(DON’T DO IT.)

He wanted so desperately to dive to the floor and check it… But what if there was nothing? He decided to give Spider-man a little more time to respond and take a shower first. Then check it…

It was a compromise that made the boxes bicker.

Heh, good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god guys - THANK YOU so much for your support. I am so so happy you're enjoying the fic so far. I can't believe we are over 100 kudos I'm just.. thank you <3
> 
> Not much plot in this one, but the gears will get moving next chapter. For now let's just bask in Wade and Peter having their second-first meeting? Did that make sense?
> 
> The song for this one is: Hopelessly Devoted To You - Olivia Newton-John


	7. Every breath you take

_July 25th 2011, Monday - later that night  
_ POV Peter

 After that, Wade and Peter both fell into a comfortable silence. In part because Peter really didn’t have a smart comment for that. It was unexpected, really, he had expected Deadpool to tease him more. But it was so honest, it made him feel a little bit raw to be honest. The second reason was, he was attempting to remember how exactly he ended up in the past…

 And also, more importantly, how he was going to get back. He distantly began racking his brain, trying to remember if the Avengers were even together yet. But they weren’t - that wouldn’t happen for another two years… Captain America wasn’t even awake yet, and Thor probably was stuck in Asgard for the foreseeable future - or at least that is what he could piece together from the rough timeline he had read in SHIELD’s private records that he totally didn’t hack into. It wasn’t like they were that hard to get to, so they were asking for it really.

Which left only a few options. One, was SHIELD, but approaching them as a time traveler, with sensitive information about the future (especially in their case) was altogether a bad idea. They were an intelligence agency, after all, and they would love to interrogate Peter to get any heads up they could. So, that was not an option.

Second, was Tony Stark… Which was also a bad idea because it would mess with Peter’s timeline too much. He was too close to Mr. Stark in his own timeline, and he didn’t know how much it would fuck up that timeline to meet Tony now. The possibilities could lead to his death, or someone else’s that he was very close to… Or make things worse. He eyed Wade. Going by this theory, he should be safe with Deadpool because he didn’t know who Peter Parker was. So, he would have to be extra careful not to give away any hints about Spider-man. His hands itched for his web shooters which he regrettably would not be able to use.  

 Third, was Dr. Banner… Peter hadn’t revealed his identity to him yet, and him and Spider-man haven’t had the opportunity to really talk yet. Yeah, Peter may have obsessively read _several_ of his research papers, anecdoted, and generally fan-boyed over the doctor…  but they weren’t close. So, it was a safe bet. Only problem with that was Dr. Banner had fairly recently Hulked out, smashed a lot of shit, and then went off the grid in consequence. He won’t be discovered and drawn out of hiding for another two years by SHIELD… And Peter isn’t confident that he has much rein on the Hulk at this point in time as he does in the present. Which makes it dangerous, but also his best bet.

 Peter’s thoughts were interrupted by Wade suddenly jumping to his feet as several people ducked into the tent. A gray-haired man with a solemn expression was the last to enter. “I thought I told you to come get us when he woke?” He said pointedly to Wade who just shrugged unhelpfully.

 The man turned his attention back to Peter, “Where you from, kid?”

 Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little intimidated with nine pairs of eyes all centered on him. “Queens, sir,” he croaks, which he totally blames on his raw throat.

 He nods thoughtfully, “Very good.” He paces the room, which Peter knows from experience only leads to bad things. Threats. “My name is Major William Stryker, and this,” he gestures to the group, “is my unit.” He pauses, pulling out a pistol, which he slowly began taking apart on the table. “You see, kid, you’ve stumbled upon a special operative, one that is _six_ years in the making.” Stryker pulled out a cloth and began to clean the barrel, “So, either you are one unlucky son-of-a-bitch, _or_ a really lucky spy.”

 Peter didn’t know what to say. But he felt his body tensing against the restraints, trying to judge how much force he would need to rip the ropes from his legs… It would definitely hurt. Then there was his webshooters…

 Stryker looked in approval at the shine, and began reassembling with ease, “So, we have a few options. One, you are unlucky - even so, we can’t very let you go at this point, so you’re now a recruit, and as _cooperative_ as humanly possible. I say jump, you jump, I say sit, you sit. Understood?” He glares down at Peter, and all he can do is nod.

 Stryker seems satisfied with this, and he turns back to his gun which is now fully reassembled. He pops open the barrell, and to Peter’s discomfort, loads it. “Two, you’re lucky. You’re going to wish you weren’t. We will be watching every breath, every step- you take.”

 “...Is he really quoting _The Police_ right now?” whispers a not-so-soft-whisper from the back.

 Stryker frowns, but elects to ignore it, “And if you so much as take a piss without asking permission, I won’t hesitate to put a fucking bullet in your head.” He cocked the gun, “Understood?”

\---

 _September 22nd 2018, Saturday - night  
_ POV Miles

 Miles was definitely, one-hundred and ten percent _panicking_. His uncle was a dead weight, and he wasn’t a small guy either. But Miles also was running on adrenaline. And adrenaline could do amazing things, you know? There was a story that he read once, one of a mother picking up a car to get to her baby. How did the baby end up under a car? He wasn’t sure. But the human body was capable of amazing things.

 Amazing things… He was winded, but he didn’t stop running. Amazing was Peter Parker - who was Spider-man?! Peter Parker who tried to buy him time to get away. Peter Parker who just saved his ass from being drugged and a likely lab rat. Peter Parker who saved him from his own stupidity. _God,_ he was so stupid. He should have trusted him, when he said he was looking into it…

 But he was scared. And he knew his uncle was in serious trouble. So, he talked to a few of his uncles ‘old pals’ and he got somewhere. He got a phone number. Which he called with shaking hands earlier that night, _god it’s been a long night,_ and he got a price…

 Miles paused many, many blocks away, finally feeling safe enough to gather himself. He pulled out his phone, hands shaking, back aching with the weight of his uncle half thrown over it, he called for an uber. They’d be there in a few minutes… And he let himself breathe. Where was he going to take his uncle? He couldn’t go back to his old apartment, obviously. He couldn’t check into a hotel without any form of ID. Miles couldn’t take him home, his dad would _kill_ him. He could try Oscorp.. Pray that nobody was in the labs this late…

His blood froze as the Uber pulled up to the sidewalk. Oscorp… How did they know he could get the information they wanted from Oscorp? They had to have known he worked there. They knew where he worked, his name his… Everything. His body jerked, adrenaline rushing yet again, he ducked out from the alley and into the car.

 “He drank too much,” Miles supplied bluntly at the cab driver’s inquiring expression. To which, he shrugged and accepted, obviously not caring to look much deeper. For that, Miles was thankful, and he rambled off the only other address he could think of right now. It was a long shot, but also the only one he had right now.

 The car began moving, and for once Miles felt like he could breathe again. He took a long breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The heat of the car took the chill from his bones, and after a few minutes he finally began to feel safe… If only for a moment. He pulled out his phone, yet again, and quickly shot Peter a text.

  _To Genius Parker - Sent: 7:44pm ‘thk u so much Peter pls tell me ur ok’_

 His phone flashed, _‘unable to send message at this time’._ He tapped it and tried to resend it. It failed again. He stared, he had full service right now. He pressed call - it instantly connected to voicemail. He tried again, and again, and again…

 His hands where shaking again by the time the cab pulled up their destination, and he was pretty sure Peter had about fifty missed calls. This was so fucked.

\---  
_September 22nd 2018, Saturday - still the same f* &%ing night_ _  
_ Wade POV

 Wade sang in the shower. Should it surprise you that he does? No, probably not, since he sings on a daily anyway. The majority of the shower, much to the boxes’s general despair was spent screaming “Girls just Wanna Have Fun” at the top of his lungs.

 [normally, I’m all for some Cyndi - but can you PLEASE hurry up and check your goddamn phone!]

 (...I would even take the phone at this rate. He’s _so_ off-key. It hurts.)

 [our neighbors 100% hate us]

 (Blind Al did say she wished she was deaf instead of blind _many_ times.)

 Wade is almost tempted to keep going, but he is also exhausted. So, he stops singing, and steps out of the shower. Donned in fuzzy robe, bunny slippers, and a towel wrapped around his bald head he pads out into his dark apartment while strategically avoiding the mirror.

 [there is a god-]

 He paced around the room, once, trying to make it appear like he wasn’t dying to check. But it lasted only one round before he was diving down for his pink phone. He unlocks it, his heart leaping as he sees a text from Spidey. It lasts for a second, before it is sinking through the floorboards.

  _Spideybae - Recieved: 3:55pm ‘may need back up asap [google maps location marker]_ ’

 (-And he hates us.)

 ---

 _July 25th 2011, Monday - later that night  
_ POV Peter

Peter really can’t do much more than nod because what is he to say to that? Plus he feels his smart mouth would not be appreciated by Stryker. But, luckily, he wasn’t looking for a response because he clicks on safety and returns the pistol to its holster. “Great, then you’ll be rooming with Wilson, since nobody can fucking stand him. We move early tomorrow, get some sleep.” And with that exited the tent.

 After just threatening Peter’s life. He supposed this was his life now. He sighed, looking up at the other eight, curious pairs of eyes. Everyone seemed to settle down, now that Stryker was gone and made his threats.

 Wade, of course, broke the silence. “Glad to have you on board…” He sighed dramatically, “It’s not easy, y'know, being the only beta in a room full of testosterone snorting alphas.”

 Logan rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Enough with the wolf jokes already….”

 “‘Fox is a girl though?” A big man interjected thoughtfully.

 “A girl, and also not a wolf -- _Logan_ , with a bigger pair than you,” Wade clipped with ease, skipping happily away from the big man’s  powerful, but slow, swing of retaliation. “And definitely the most alpha.”

 “Put a sock in it Wilson,” Fox said breezily, and Peter recognized her voice as the one he had heard when he woke up.

 “So, what’s your name?” a dark man in a cowboy hat asked calmly, arms crossed, classy ignoring the chaos erupting behind him.

 “Peter Parker,” Peter supplied a bit breathlessly. It was a lot all at once.

 “Ooo,” Wade called, from big guy’s choke hold, which he thrashed uselessly in, “Wade Winston Wilson,  we’re alliteration buddies!”

 Peter smirked, as Wade gasped for breath and the big guy reluctantly let go of him at Logan’s stern look, “Close, but not quite, my middle name is Benjamin.”

 "Awww no, Pen-jamin… No, no doesn’t work. You must remarry into a family with a ‘J’ as their last name.”

 Peter rolled his eyes, “PB and J, _really?_ ”

 “Terrific combination, match made in heaven. And if you don’t - it is totally a missed opportunity.”

 “Enough for tonight,” Fox interrupted, arms crossed, “Show Peter to his tent. We have to leave early tomorrow.”

Everyone reluctantly left, with the exception of Wade, who with some warning in his gaze, freed Peter’s legs. Wade was oddly silent as he led him from the tent. It was dark out, but from what Peter could make out they were out in some place rural and dry… Definitely not Brooklyn, definitely not New York City. He ignored the urge to run, knowing it would only lead to chaos, and he’d rather not have Wolverine and all those other people hunting him down thank-you-very-much.

They reach a tent that is on the outskirts of the camp and enters easily. There is a single fold-up cot, a fold up table, and an oil lamp. Wade gestures to the cot, “You can sleep there… We’ll have to get another one, later…”

 Peter scoffs, catching Wade’s surprised eye, “Are you serious? Isn’t the prisoner supposed to sleep on ground?”

 Wade slowly shakes his head, “You’re not-” he looks at Peter’s frowning face and thinks better, “you’re still recovering from being drugged…. And you need to be well enough to move in the morning.”

 Peter blinks and sighs, slowly moving to sit down on the cot. Wade seems to relax as he does. “You’re far too polite.”

 “You’re a guest.”

 “You’re an idiot.”

 Wade barks out a laugh, blows out the lamp, and begins to make himself comfortable on the ground. Well, as comfortable as the ground could be. Peter shakes his head and closes his eyes. Admittedly the cot was pretty comfortable, and he was really, really tired…

\---

 _September 22nd 2018, Saturday - night  
_ POV Miles

_Twitter - DM’s -_ _To @ChairguyLeeds from @MilesandMorales_

_8:09pm_

   
 _@MilesandMorales: is this Ned Leeds?_

_@ChairguyLeeds: Yeah who is this?_

@MilesandMorales:  _Miles, friend of Peters_

_@ChairguyLeeds: O Miles from Oscorp?_

@MilesandMorales:  _Yes, we got a SOS get 2 ur school immediately_

_@ChairguyLeeds: Wait my school? why r u there?_

_@MilesandMorales: Yes, now need ur help. Peter is in trouble. Now._

_@ChairguyLeeds: shit - omw_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO... First...  
> Miles POV... I wasn't planning on it, honestly, but I'm kind of into it. It is necessary right now because otherwise there are big holes in this story. Plus it won't go on too long... Unless you guys want it to... In which case I'm for it because Miles is such a sweet baby and I'm totally in love with writing him in. So let me know how you feel about that.
> 
> Next chapter we FINALLY move onto THE NEXT DAY - god it feels like this day went on forever. 
> 
> Second - the team that Wade and Logan are on are basically the same people from Wolverine Origins... But also not really because I will be tweaking their characters (ahem... Silverfox) to how I like. So, you probably will notice they are a little OOC.
> 
> Songs for this one are:
> 
> Every Breath You Take - The Police  
> Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper
> 
> I made a playlist under Spotify with all these songs I'm using if you ever wanna give it a listen. Just search "I'm Gonna Getcha Good - Ficlist".
> 
> Again - I can't say it enough - thank you all for your support on this fic, it keeps me going... We are almost on page 50 on my document for this fic and I'm honestly shocked, it doesn't feel like I've written that much! We are in for the long haul guys. 
> 
> Next chapter should be a longer one (:


	8. It's a wild, wild world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter: Wild World - Cat Stevens

_September 22nd 2018, Saturday - 9:55pm_  
POV Miles

Miles had never visited Peter’s school before. But he knew where he went because they talked about it a lot. In the lab, they had talked about a great deal of things. Bullies at school, the classes that they loved, the classes they hated. The teachers who didn’t understand what it was like being a kid in the twenty-first century and the teachers that pretended they did. They talked about their families and their friends. About their past. But never did Peter tell him about Spider-man. Which was fair. Miles understood that. But it was still a lot. A lot to take in.

But when the taxi had pulled up, Miles ignored the slightly skeptical look from the cab driver as he pulled his still unconscious uncle outside, “We live close by.” As if it explained everything or anything, he paid the driver and he was on his blessed way. And Miles had dragged his uncle around the side of the building until he could find an unlocked door, one he assumed was open for the janitor's late night duties. Safe inside the school, for now, he knew he needed help. And that he was way in over his head.

So, there was Ned Leeds. Ned Leeds, who was currently dressed in sweats and a Star Wars shirt with a bleach stain, with bed-hair that said he had literally just woken up. Miles didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see someone.  He rushed to greet him. “Hey! Hey! Thank _god_ you’re here.”

Ned looked dazed still and nodded. “Uhh, yeah, man, sure, but what do you mean, Peter is in-” He caught sight of Mile’s uncle. “Oh my god!”

“Peter is in trouble, he isn’t picking up his phone-”

“Why is there a dead man in the boy’s locker room?!”

“He’s not dead-”

“-Oh MY GOD-”

“-And the locker room was the only place I could think of that we wouldn’t be discovered right away...”

After a moment of contemplation Ned nodded, “Okay, right, cool, so, Peter’s in trouble?”

So, here came the hard part… Miles had a theory that Ned knew about Peter being Spider-man mainly because they were close. And Peter had mentioned having special projects with Ned countless times… But it was a guess and he also didn’t want to reveal his identity without his permission. But he was also in desperate need of help. “Uh, yeah, Peter and his… friend Spider-man.”

“Spider-man _and_ Peter are in trouble?” Ned said slowly, brows creasing.

“Yeah, Peter followed me to, uh, where my uncle was and Spider-man came as back up and started fighting this creepy guy so we could escape. And I barely got out, and now neither are responding…”

“So… Peter fought the creepy guy?”

“Uh, no Spider-man?”

“Spider-man followed you?”

“No, uh, yes I guess, Peter followed me and Spider-man followed Peter as I followed the man to find my uncle.”

“The one that is dead?”

“He’s not, well, yeah, him. He’s been drugged by something.”

Ned shook his head, frustrated, “So, you saw Peter and Spider-man _both_ fighting this guy?”

Well, no… Miles was a terrible liar, but he also had to respect Peter’s secret. He couldn’t just out him.  It wasn’t fair. “Uh, well-”

“Obviously, we all know Peter is Spider-man then,” a third voice added.

Miles jumped, not having noticed that a third person had entered the boy’s locker room. The voice belonged to a girl with curly hair that hung in a sloppy ponytail, dressed in black jeans and a soft tee with jacket that swallowed most of her frame. She had sharp eyes that were focused on him, and it made him uncomfortable. “Um, yeah…”

Ned looked, rightfully, angry, “MJ!”

She shrugged, “As fun and confusing as that conversation was, it is better that we are all on the same page. Now, Miles, was it?” He nodded. “Tell us what happened,” she took a seat on one of the benches that wasn’t being occupied by his unconscious uncle, as if she belonged there. “In detail.” He swallowed and began.

\---  
_July 26th 2011, Tuesday - 2:55am  
_ POV Peter

Peter fell asleep so fast and so deep, that it seemed like he had just closed his eyes when he was being stirred away again by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He groaned, “Just a few more minutes, please,” he was pressed on sleep. He hadn’t gotten much sleep this past week. Between school, his internship and his responsibilities as Spider-man something had to give… Just a few more minutes.

“Hey, Pete, sorry,” a familiar voice gently, “but we really got to get moving…”

His eyes slid open, and everything was hazy still, but he could make out a familiar blue pair of eyes. And a bemused expression on an unmasked face. His breath hitched, so it wasn’t a dream then… He really, really was here. He nodded, “Yeah, yeah, sorry… M’up.” He sat up, wincing as his head spun unpleasantly. He pressed his temples, yeah, he forgot about that part.

Wade was already up, thankfully, giving Peter some space as he began to pack up supplies in the tent. He sat for a few moments, trying to clear the fog from his eyes and mind, eventually stumbling up to his feet, voice still heavy with sleep, “What time is it?”

“Three,” Wade supplied moving now to fold up the cot Peter had just been occupying. Three in the morning, he had to assume from the lack of light outside.

Peter stood, wanting to help but unsure exactly where to, “Do you need…?”

Wade pointed to small canvas bag in the corner and together they slipped it around the cot. Once that was done, they proceeded to take down the tent. As they were outside, the air was blessedly cool, Peter saw the other occupants of the camp doing the same. Everyone moved efficiently, swiftly packing up the site with practiced ease. They began loading supplies into two HUMVEEs, and Peter was somehow designated with that job. He stuffed supplies into the back with not much reason to his rhyme, just hoping that it would all fit.

“You drive, kid?”

He jumped, nearly hitting his head on the top of the HUMVEE as he was currently crouched inside, trying to make things work. Peter wondered who managed to sneak up on him despite his spidey-sense… He was beginning to worry if it  was somehow his powers were muted by whatever drug that creepy man had injected him with. Not that he really had the opportunity to test it out, not with everyone watching him. And, if it were a possibility, he could only hope it would end whenever the drug worked its way out of his system. Otherwise he had no resources to figure out what it was that was affecting him.

It was the big guy from earlier, who had a smug sort of face that Peter instantly didn’t like. Peter gave the man a pointed look, before backing out of the HUMVEE, jumping down, and dusting the dirt from his jeans before he responded.

“Sort of…” Peter thought of the first and last time he had driven, it had been Flash’s dad’s car. And he had managed to completely total it - it was actually impressive. But since then he hadn’t really had any desire to drive, nor had he had the opportunity to learn. The last thing he had time for was driving ed classes. Besides, if he really needed a fast way of transportation besides the subway, he could just web around the city. Perks of being Spider-man.

“You might want to learn, if you ever want to escape, that is.”

Peter forced a laugh, though it came out high and uncomfortable. He didn’t really know what to say to that. Was the man baiting him? He obviously was.

“Victor, you know it’d take a lot more than stealing a car to escape,” Fox said appearing from nowhere, a rifle strung around her back, duffle bags in hand.

Victor shrugs as Fox tosses the bags at Peter, who scrambles to catch them. “I know, just would like to see him try is all. It would be fun.”

Peter elects to ignore it, makes no comment, and begins loading the car. Fox looks satisfied with that and turns her attention to Victor. “Cute, but just because we got another hand doesn’t mean you can slack off. Get to packing we move in five.” And with that she was off again. A reluctant Victor follows.

\--- _  
__September 22nd 2018, Saturday - 10:20pm_  
POV Miles

Silence had fallen over the boy’s locker room once Miles finished his account of the story. Neither Ned nor MJ had said anything about it, only interjecting ever interjecting to get more facts.. Where was the lab, when did it occur, how long was his uncle gone? But neither of them passed judgement on his behavior… On his recklessness. And for that, he was eternally grateful. He was sat next to his uncle, hand wrapped around his wrist, feeling for a pulse point. It calmed him, to know it was still beating fine. For now.

MJ finally stood, with a finality that made Miles also jump to his feet, and Ned who had just been standing, straighten to attention. “Well, clearly, we are in over our head on this one.”

Ned nodded, “We would really like to help you, Miles, but this is… Your uncle need medical attention and a place to stay.”

He knew that. He knew they couldn’t just keep hiding in the boy’s locker room… But he didn’t know where to turn because he couldn’t bring his uncle home. He also couldn’t endanger anyone else, he wouldn’t forgive himself. “I know,” he says, soft, trying to keep his voice steady.

He mustn’t be successful because Ned’s hand is a warm and steady comfort on his shoulder. “But we know someone who can help.”

MJ pulls out her phone, “Promise you won’t tell Peter about this.” All Miles can do is nod, which she accepts. “Okay, time to call in the big guns.”

\---  
_July 26 2011, Tuesday - 5:02am  
_ POV Peter

“Word of unwarranted advice?”

Peter huffed, amused, but curious to warrant Wade’s unsolicited advice, whatever it may be. It would be, perhaps, enough to get his mind off the heat. The sun was just barely rising in the sky, but he was already exhausted. He carried a heavy pack, full of what- he didn’t want to know, and they were hiking somewhere. A few in the group have taken the two HUMVEEs in the opposite direction. Which left six of them trekking on. He and Wade were in the back of the group. He waved for the other to continue.

“Stay away from Victor.”

Peter ducked under a low hanging branch, as the further the group went, the more wooded and lush the land became. And the more certain Peter was becoming that he was definitely not in New York, or even the United States anymore. Nothing was familiar and there were plants he didn’t recognize. But he kept in the back of his mind for now. “Why?”

Wade frowned, muscles in his jaw working as if clamping down on something he wanted to say. Instead, he just shrugged, “Like I said, unwarranted advice between two betas.” And he pushed on.

\---

Not much else was said until they spotted a clearing that gave way to a structure that seemed very out of place in the forest. It was steel and concrete, smoke billowed out from its stacks, intrusive and polluting. The land around it was burnt and the grass dead, as if poisoned.

The group was now huddled around Stryker as he looked on, “Dukes and Logan are point, Victor east, Wilson west, Zero is your cover.” The group immediate split to their respective duties, with practiced ease. Which just left Zero, Stryker and Peter alone on in the woods as Fox, John, and Bradley were still somewhere with the HUMVEEs.

A bad feeling itched at the base of his spine, and while it was unsettling, it wasn’t unwelcome. It was comforting that his spider-sense was coming back, even given the circumstances. He tensed and watched as ‘Zero’ dropped his pack and began assembling, with surprising speed, a intimidating looking rifle. He was positioned in barely any time at all, sniper rifle tracking movements of the unsuspecting factory.

A pair of binoculars was thrust under Peter’s nose, he blinked at Stryker’s satisfied grin. “Don’t want you to miss the show.” He took them, hesitantly, not sure what the man’s agenda was exactly, but eager to see what was going to occur nonetheless. He peered through the binoculars, stomach clenching, anxiously.

It was brutal. Peter knew that the Wolverine was fearsome. Never heard of someone eager to meet him on the wrong side of the battlefield. But this was… This was slaughter. As directed, Logan and Dukes emerged first from the forest, breaking through with a rabid roar and savage speed, Logan easily outpaced Dukes. He launched onto the first man and snapped his neck. Bullets rained down, but the Wolverine was fast, and quickly skirted the lines. Dukes was not so lucky, and bullets burrowed through the cloth of his shirt but… No further. They scattered to the ground by his feet, and he continued walking. He turned the gun in one man’s hand so calmly, and it fired in on the man who held it... and he was dead.

Then came Victor from the east like an animal. He flanked, his fingernails extended like claws easily gutted one of the gunners. Entrails fell, staining the dead grass a gruesome dark red. Wade Wilson came from the west, mouth moving a mile a minute, his katanas drawn in an instant, laughing at something he just said as he approaches… Peter dropped the binoculars, taken back to the green in front of him.

Everything is so green… He dry heaves. Again. For the third time today. He didn’t even have anything in him anymore, and he was constantly reminded of it by his growling stomach earlier. Now he was thankful he didn’t eat anything as he heaved against the grass. It scratched his face, tickled his nose, and he heard laughter over the distant gunfire above him. Stryker was laughing. He rips the grass from the ground in fistfuls, trying to contain his anger. This is why he wanted Peter to watch. Rage boils up and under his skin, so hot, that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to contain it. He bites so hard he tastes blood.

\---

 _September 22nd 2018, Saturday - 11:45pm  
_ POV Miles

It has been a wild night. A wild night indeed. Miles is definitely in shock. That is the only thing explaining how he is so calm right now. That is the only possibility to why he is so calm, sitting on Tony Stark’s couch in his billion-dollar tower in an actually cosy looking space. Yes, shock, was keeping him from hyperventilating, that and the nice, warm knit blanket draped around his shoulders. He watched the scene before him, hell, he could even see himself watching the scene before him like some out-of-body experience. It was wild.

“Mr. Stark, with all due respect, I think the best way to find Peter is to look into the case he was investigating before his disappearance.” MJ, the brave soul, had finally spoken up. See, when MJ first called Tony fucking Stark, the conversation had been calm. Mr. Stark’s driver was there in hardly no time to pick them up, and Mr. Happy (was that his name?) even helped Miles carry his uncle. Mr. Stark, in the meantime, claimed he had a tracker on Peter’s suit and could track him. Miles had helpfully added Peter hadn’t worn his suit, but Tony waved it off and said he tracked Peter’s phone as well. Which was… kind of an invasion of privacy but admittedly handy in this situation.

Only problem, that wasn’t working. Which made Tony nervous. And so the man who was once as calm as a cucumber, began frantically typing into his tablet. With Miles’s uncle being tended to by a physician in the next room, the three kids left Mr. Stark to his work. They returned an hour later, with news that Miles’s uncle should make a full recovery though the concoction of drugs he had been injected with were still unclear, they were being flushed from his system. He should wake with time.

And Mr. Stark, in an hour, was in a state. A bottle of scotch was open on the floor next to him, which he sipped from, and his hair was messier as if it had been twisted and turned. Tony Stark was at a loss. And Miles began to panic for the third time that night because if Peter was gone… If he was gone….

Which is how he somehow ended up sat on the couch with said blanket. Observing Tony Stark pace back and forth. MJ standing with crossed arms, and Ned nerding out over a tablet - likely hacking into all of Mr. Stark’s more interesting projects. Tony continued on with his rant, however, ignoring MJ’s calm statement. “How could he have just disappeared? I can’t even find traces? It is like he just vanished from the face of the earth? No, I could still trace him in space… He is just gone. Unless there is tech advanced enough to decoy the-”

“MR. STARK!” Everyone’s attention was caught, and flow of the room froze with Mr. Stark's, thank god, end of anxious pacing. MJ cleared her throat, speaking more gently now, “I think the best course of action, to find Peter, is to look into what he was investigating.”

Ned rose his hand, and slowly lowered it at Mr. Stark’s skeptical look, “If I might add, Peter was looking into a missing persons case with multiple ex-convicts. All connected to the same parole office that just got bombed.”

The mystified expression on Stark’s face cleared into something significant. “Bombed…” he lept into action, tapping lightly at the plate on his chest. Armor burst from seemingly nowhere, coating his body with elegance. The mask came down with a finality, and before any of the kids could ask where or what he was doing, he was bursting out from the apartment.

“Ned, what’s the WIFI password?”

'Ironmanrox."

\---  
_September 23rd 2018, Sunday - 12:20am  
_ POV Wade

“I’m going to go CRAZY!”

(Sweety, I hate to break it to you but…)

[you’ve crossed that bridge a looong time ago]

He growled in frustration, the urge to smash his phone for the second time that night was _overpowering_.

[because that went so well the first time]

(Shut up. Don’t fuel it.)

He pocketed it instead. A very, very frustrated pocket. More like shoving aggressively into his pouch… That sounded so wrong. But Spidey was missing. He wasn’t at the location he tagged. Wade knew. He knew because he checked. He checked under every brick, in every crack of that lab’s secret creepy wall. But all there was, was the smell of burning rubber and some fried computers. And a lot of evil looking evil scientist shit.

[remind you of anywhere in particular?]

(Our hunch was right. They’re experimenting on them. It is Weapon X 2.O)

[and now they have Spidey]

“No, no, no, no, no, no no nono,” he chants, like it will make it reality. Like it isn’t true. It can’t be true. He can’t be taken by those sadists. Because Wade wasn’t there when he needed him. Because he was being childish, selfish… A fool.

(Once a fool, always a fool.)

[always a selfish idiot it is all your fault spidey got caught and now he’s going to die or _worse_ he’s gonna end up like _you_ ]

“No no nonononono no,” it isn’t even a word anymore. It is just a moan. The mask is suffocating him again. He squeezes his eyes shut and just tries to breathe.

There is a blast of heat, and he is swept off his feet, falling, from the ledge he had been standing on. _Divine intervention_ , he thinks, darkly, as he just falls to his immediate death. Sweet, merciful death wraps around him like night, without the stars or moon. Without the voices and the doom. He is almost tempted to ask if they’ve seen Spidey yet… But he doesn’t even know Spidey’s true name.

Coming back to life is the real pain. Dying sucks, yeah, but it isn’t as bad as coming back. Coming back is like a punch to the face, about five-hundred times over. Because sometimes he comes back before it has healed enough. He comes back and suffers, chokes on his own blood, or bites back tears that water in his eyes at the pain.  He is used to pain, but his body still reacts.

He comes back, looking up at glowing eyes and an angry steel mask. It is funny, how he can look so damn pissed in that mask. It is even less expressive than Wade’s.

“I guess you just have a talent for annoying people.”

Shit… Did he say that out loud? He definitely did. He had no self control, like ever, but especially after just being unalived. He cleared his throat, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Tin-man?”

The faceplate slid back. Tony Stark looked angry, yes, he always did when talking to Wade but… But he also looked worried. “Spider-man… Spider-man has gone missing. And I need to know what you’ve done with him.”

Sometimes he is thankful for the mask. Okay, basically, all the time he is thankful for the mask. It shields him from the looks… The looks of horror, of disgust, of pity… It shields him from revealing too much as well. But he is especially thankful for it in this moment. Because bile rises in his throat. He has to swallow down his disgust. Has to reign it in. He wants to die, in this moment. Just die in it. He knew the Avengers hated him. They were explicit about his unwelcomeness. But this was, this was next level. To be accused of killing or harming Spider-man, it made him feel lesser, so much lower. Was he really such an outrageous monster that people thought this was just something he’d do? Anger rises, self righteous, defensive, ugly. He bites it down.  Tony just looks on because it has been a minute. Or two. Before he can respond. “I haven’t done _anything_ to him.”

Tension bleeds out from Stark, and for a second, all that is left is a scared, concerned man. And he looks miserable. Like he is desperately trying to keep it together. Like he is scared of losing more thing… Like everything he touches he destroys… Okay, maybe Wade was projecting his own feelings on Stark. But… He did look sad. Which is why he speaks again, “But I did get a text from earlier tonight, at some lab… I teared it apart but he wasn’t there. Only some old, dead computers and a creepy-ass evil scientist vibe going..”

Tony nods, “I’ve tried tracking his suit… But it isn’t working…”

“Soooo,” Wade tried to chose his next words carefully, knowing he had to tread lightly here, “then we have to find out who is taking these men and maybe they’ll lead us to Spidey.”

Stark caught on to the ‘we’, he definitely caught the ‘we’. There was no way he didn’t. Not at the way he was looking at Wade now. “...Okay.”

Did.. Did he hear that right. Did Stark just agree to be a team? Are they a team?! A we-love-Spidey-so-we-will-kick-ass-take-names-for-him-til-we-die team?! “Really?!”

There is that irritated look, but is muted like a man resigned to his fate. “Yes…  I guess the first course of action is to salvage whatever information we can from those computers... “ The faceplate slid back into place. “We’ll call you.” And with that he was off. Zooming away on his little Iron-man jets. Beautiful.

(That’s the first time you’ve ever called him Iron-man.)

[he is sentimental, wants acceptance]

And the boxes are back. But at least there was hope of finding Spidey. With the Avengers and Wade looking into it… Together.

(Say, why are all our team-ups made with us on the ground?)

[fate?]

\---  
_July 26th 2011, Tuesday - 6:33am_  
POV Peter

The only good, to come of this, that Peter can think of is that Stryker may be less suspicious of a spy who can’t handle the sight of blood. Or useless slaughter. He rights himself as Zero packs up his rifle, which he hadn’t needed to use. And then they descend as the scene is now silent. Eerily silent.

Peter can’t feel his feet as they march on, he stumbles into the clearing. Confronted with the truth of what he just witnessed. Blood, guts, blood… Iron. It clogs up his enhanced senses. He just wants to vomit again. Stryker claps him on the back, “Looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

Peter looks up, and realizing they’re all talking. He sees Wade, Wade… Blonde hair, same blue eyes. Blood on his katanas. “He looks like he _is_ a ghost,” Wade says softly and Peter flinches. A few laugh at his expense.

But there is a rustle behind them, and to Peter’s surprise, John and Fox have appeared. Without the vehicles. “Took you long enough,” Victor comments, earning a look from Fox.

“We had to be sure we got a secure location. Bradley is setting up,” she says smoothly, brushing her long dark hair back with ease.

“Well, now that everyone is here, let’s get what we came for.” Stryker said decidedly, and began marking past the.. The bodies towards the smoking building. Ash and death. The tingling returned. Even though the immediate threat was gone, besides all the killers that surrounded him, it still went off. He trailed behind the group on unsure feet.

Wade lingered back, falling into step with him. “Are you ok? You look pale as a sheet.” Peter couldn’t look at him. He kept walking. “Is it the drugs?”

He stumbled, and Wade reached out to catch him. But Peter snapped away, with inhuman speed, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care. His senses were going haywire and he just witnessed… Just witnessed… “Don’t touch me.” He keeps walking. He keeps going. He steps around the blood, the bodies, the people… He ignores the look Wade gave him. Ignores the hurt in those blue eyes. Ignores it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE.
> 
> This week has kicked my ass. And then this weekend has been consumed by The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina - which I admittedly binge watched until the end. I'm sorry not sorry. Also as soon as get my hands on Red Dead Redemption 2 it is going to be... A moment. But not too much of a moment.
> 
> Also I couldn't think of a good Wifi password for Tony. If you guys can come up with a clever/funny one let me know and I'll add it in. 
> 
> Anyway - thanks again for reading guys (:


	9. It don't mean a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:
> 
> It Don't Mean A Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing) - Rosemary Clooney & Duke Ellington  
> Smile - Nat Cole King

_July 26th 2011, Tuesday - 8:45am  
_ POV Peter

As the group strolls up to the door, John Wraith, and his cowboy hat, vanish. The group stops at the door, which in a moment is being pushed open by John himself. “After you, gentlemen, and lady.” And they proceed, Logan and Victor take point again (Peter suspected probably because of their healing abilities). Zero and Wade were next, and then the rest of them followed suit. Luckily, they didn’t meet much resistance on their way in. They reached the main lobby, and it was quiet. Too quiet.

“Split up. Meet back here in twenty.” The team divided, obviously having done this many times before. Zero and Wade, Victor and Stryker, Logan and Dukes, and that left Silverfox and John Wraith with Peter.

“Come on, let’s find what we came for,” Fox said, and lead them down a corridor to a room filled with computers. It reminded Peter of how he had come to be here in the first place, though the computers were older models. Slower internet… He was still sometimes baffled how far technology had progressed in just a few years.

John and Fox were on them, without much success. “I can help?” Peter offered, wanting to be useful if only to gain trust. If he could at least get them to trust him a little bit, he would stand a better chance of escaping later. John stepped aside and gestured for him to go on. It took a few tries, but when he was finally in, he moved to give Fox access.

Wraith patted his shoulder with a smile, “Thanks kid.”

Fox flipped through files, pausing at one, and pulling it up. Peter watched, horrified, when he saw what it contained. Children. In medical gowns, bruised, caged… He felt sick. He looked away. “Got it, let’s go.”

\---

_July 26th 2011, Tuesday - 3:55pm_

From what Peter could gather, the factory was manufacturing weapons for a new organization formed from ex-Hydra agents. And it looked like they were into more than weapons… They were researching the location of vibranium, and then there was the children.

“Mutants…” John had said to him some time later, as they were loading the HUMVEEs (which Fox and John had retrieved). They were loading it with anything valuable they found the factory. Which was, of course, mainly weapons.

Peter looked up, he was focusing on the task at hand. Trying not to think about it. Think about the death of all these people… And the death and pain they had and possibly would have caused. “What?”

“The photos, of the kids you saw,” John shoved a particularly heavy case inside the car, with Peter’s help. “They were mutants.” They closed the door. “They want to understand their mutations, to control them… In their books, it is just another weapon.” They leaned against the HUMVEE, waiting as the others abandoned the now stripped factory. Wraith sighed, “This is war.”

With everything loaded, they left. Peter was sat in the back of one of the less full HUMVEE’s with Fox and John. The radio crinkled on through. “Boom baby!” Wade called once they were a safe distance, and on cue, the factory behind them became a fireball… The land shook and Peter sat on. Feeling numb.

“Good work today team, we leave tomorrow,” Stryker’s voice filters in through the radio.

\---

_July 26th 2011, Tuesday - 10:00pm_

Peter realized, as soon as the team had reached some civilization, that they were in Cambodia. Not that it did much, as they were leaving in the morning. But since they had accomplished their mission, Stryker had given them free reign (with the exception of Peter of course) to celebrate.

Celebration came at the expense of a classy little bar, clearly catering to the comforts of tourists. The owner was French, family having come over a long time ago during the French colonisation. All of the workers wore tailored suits. Old classics, in English, played elegantly in old speakers. It felt like Peter had gone further back in time than just seven years. He couldn’t help but ease into it, as John Wraith had insisted that he at least have a drink - to calm the nerves. If Peter were perhaps more cunning, he would have used this as an opportunity to escape. But, he didn't.

The group was spread across the bar. Dukes was currently flirting with a young girl, he was awkward but the fact that there was a language barrier was only helping him. Logan sat down at the far end, smoking wasn’t prohibited in the establishment, so he was currently working on a cigar. Victor sat next to Logan, drinking what looked like a particularly old brandy. Zero, Bradley, and Stryker were engaged in a game of intense pool in the other room, which John had gone to observe after leaving Peter with his rum. Wade was chatting up the bartender, speaking in mixed French and English, speaking about what - Peter couldn’t really follow with the noise and his mediocre French-skills... Silverfox was standing at the back, watching the tourists dance and chatter about, she was on an alarming number of vodka cranberries from what Peter could gather.

Peter sipped his rum and coke, quietly contemplating the events of the day. Those weapons they found, he couldn’t help but be happy they had put a stop to it. But then there was the… The slaughter. And the pure enjoyment they got out of it, left a bad taste in Peter’s mouth. He tipped the glass back, ignoring the bite of alcohol that would normally make his nose wrinkle… Does the end justify the means?

Then there was Wade. He and Peter hadn’t really spoken since he sort of snapped at him. He was a little ashamed of it, but he was also seconds away from a panic attack at that moment… If not apologize, perhaps he should at least explain himself. He made eye contact with Wade, who caught him staring, leaned against the bar, mid-conspiring with the bartender, a smirk on his blonde face. Wade winked.

Peter looked back down at his drink. He focused on the bubbling dark liquid, and wondered if it were even possible for him to get drunk with his fast metabolism. He had never really had the opportunity to put it to the test.

A new song, a little jazzy number with attitude, hummed into the speakers. Fox was leaning next to Logan, asking him something, to which he gave a dazed look. She huffed, moving down the bar, clearly many drinks in, and pulled Wade away by the back of his collar. He looked confused, but as soon as she made her intentions to dance clear, he wrapped a hand around her waist. And they danced.

Peter was impressed, Silverfox was clearly a practiced dancer. Wade knew enough to keep up, but primarily let her take the lead. They were interesting enough that a few heads turned to watch the couple move. Peter saw from his peripheral Logan put out his cigar, as the dance intensified, Wade swinging Fox out and pulling her back in. Logan stood, making his way toward the door, and as Fox flourished in twirl away from Wade, she conveniently collided with Logan. The pair smiled for a moment, before Fox continued her dance, Logan reluctantly following in after. Soon, they were engrossed, and shockingly to Peter, Logan was a much more practiced dancer than Wade. Easily combating Fox. His jaw was definitely dropped.

“May I have this dance?” he glanced to his right to see Wade, a sheen of sweat, and a small, insecure smile.

He blames it entirely on the rum. That he barely sipped. That his liver probably had already broken down. It is definitely the rum that makes him nod, and awkwardly follow Wade to floor. He’s never really gotten the chance to dance properly… All the school dances had been disasters so far. But that doesn’t matter because he just watches and copies Wade’s sway. It gets more complicated, with steps and small spins, and because Peter is competitive (not that he’d ever admit it) it gets heated. They do pretty good, considering… When the song ends, Peter and Wade are laughing, and people are clapping for Logan and Fox who are currently wrapped up in each other. Interesting…

The song changes into something slow. Fox leans up against Logan’s chest, and he sways them. Peter looks away, wanting to duck back to the safety of the bar with his drink. “Can I…” He looks back to Wade who is struggling for the words, he reaches a hand out and Peter remembers earlier that morning. _Don’t touch me…_ “Can I?”

His throat seizes up on an acceptance and an apology all at the same time. So, all he can do is nod and take Wade’s hand. His hand is a gentle pressure on Peter’s waist, and they move slowly with an enough space for Jesus as his high school chaperones would say… But Peter’s skin burns hot where that hand is, and his palm is sweating into Wade’s leather shoulder./

 _Smile though your heart is aching_  
_Smile even though it's breaking_  
_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by_  
_If you smile through your fear and sorrow_  
_Smile and maybe tomorrow  
You'll see the sun come shining through for you_

“I’m sorry.”

They make eye contact, and Peter is drowning in a sea of blue again. And softness. “What for?” Wade breathes.

 _Light up your face with gladness_  
_Hide every trace of sadness_  
_Although a tear may be ever so near_  
_That's the time you must keep on trying  
Smile, what's the use of crying?_

“For snapping at you earlier…” He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Could Wade tell how sweaty his hand was? He really hoped he couldn’t.

Wade laughed, it was a surprised, little thing that was so familiar and distinctly Deadpool or just Wade in general. “Oh baby boy, that was nothing, believe me, I’m used to it.” They look away, and sway.

 _You'll find that life is still worthwhile_  
_If you just smile_  
_That's the time you must keep on trying_  
_Smile, what's the use of crying?_  
_You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
If you just smile_

“But thank you,” Wade says gently at the song’s end. And they part easily, companionably moving back to the bar. Peter snatches up his drink, and curiously wanders into the side parlor to see this game of pool.

\---  
 _September 24th 2018, Monday - 9:45am  
_ POV Wade

It had been almost two days since Iron-man had agreed to team up with Wade to help find missing Spidey. And since then he hadn’t heard anything from him.

(Only to be expected really.)

[did you expect to suddenly be bffs?]

“No, but I thought I’d hear something at least…” He sighed dramatically, tearing off several paper towels. It’s bounty - two times more absorbent! He wiped the edge of his blade thoughtfully.

(Can’t have blood rusting perfection.)

[what ever happened to the no killing thing we were trying, not that I care…?]

What happened was Spidey is missing. And heads were going to roll _literally_ until he got some answers or at least some indication that he was okay.

(Yesss fuck them up, kill them.. How dare they hurt Spidey.)

He hadn’t gotten much of anywhere. He was hitting the usual cesspools of Hydra agents and generally deprived people but had come up with fuck all. It was beginning to test his patience. “Aw shit fuck…” Bloody tracks lead from the bedroom to the kitchen. His shoes! He tore off a shit ton of paper towels and threw them on the floor. Rubbing off the soles of his shoes, he contemplated visiting Weasel for the fifth time that day.

(He will shoot us. Literally shoot us.)

[good]

\---  
 _September 24th 2018, Monday - 3:45pm  
_ POV Miles

The rest of Saturday, Sunday and Monday went in a haze. Miles could barely keep his head on straight at school. He was too preoccupied by everything that had went on that weekend. Some insane time on Saturday, Mr. Happy drove the three high schoolers home. Miles was assured his uncle was in the best care at Mr. Stark’s tower and that if something were to change he would be contacted.

He visited his uncle in the medical wing on Sunday, and although still hadn’t woken up… He looked better. It made him feel better. It didn’t get rid of the over apprehensive feeling though. The knowledge that, that man knew things about Miles. How much? He wasn't sure. But he knew Miles interned at Oscorp so where he went to school, and lived, was not that much of a stretch either. He found himself waking up at the slightest creep of the floor, or constantly checking behind his back wherever he went.

MJ had created a group-chat on Sunday with him, Ned, and of course herself. He knew, from the stories Peter had told, that if he had ever met Ned and MJ that he would like them. But he did, really, like them. They were ferocious in their loyalty to Peter, that much was obvious, but they were also… Kind? Cool? Miles was almost envious.

_Unnamed group - @MJWatson @MilesandMorales @ChairguyLeeds_

_Monday - 7:03am_ _  
_ _Group name updated ‘The Websters aka SPIDER-MAN’S GANG’ @ChairguyLeeds_

_@MJWatson: Rlly Ned?_

_@MilesandMorales: I like it!_

_@ChairguyLeeds: Rlly. Meet 2 night?_

_@MJWatson: Yes I got an idea, Miles are you free ?_

_@ChairguyLeeds: Not so sure bout that…. But awesome_

_@MilesandMorales: yes! Where to?_

They met at a coffee shop not to far from MJ and Ned’s school. Miles was a little late, but they both gave him a small smile and wave when he raced in from the rain. It was a suitable for the mood. He unzipped his wet hoody, throwing it over his chair before sitting down.

“How’s things?” Ned asks, drinking what looks like a hot chocolate. That sounded good right now…

As if on cue, MJ stands up and announces she’s going for a refill and asks what he wants. “Hot chocolate too, thanks… Things are… good.”

“Your uncle still hasn’t woken up?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m just relieved he is safe.”

Ned nods, and just then MJ returns with his hot chocolate and whatever she was drinking - actually coffee? She waits for him to take an appreciative sip before leaning forward. “So, you guys know how Stark isn’t letting us even touch this case with a ten foot pole, right?” They both nodded because they remembered his lecture before they left. “Well, he might not want our help… But I’m not just sitting around waiting for Peter to be found.”

He and Ned agreed to the sentiment. It was too much to just… Wait.

“So, I was thinking of any other leads on where Peter might be… And Ned and I remembered how cagey Peter was acting when he first mentioned the disappearing case. Like, he was working with somebody - sooo…”

Ned spoke up now, “I may have illegally hacked into Peter’s old phone records and found out he was working with a guy called Deadpool.”

Miles blinked because, uh, wow… They worked fast. MJ, who had just taken a sip of her coffee, spoke up again, “And I know where to find him.”

\---  
 _September 24th 2018, Monday - 5:20pm  
_ POV Wade

If it weren’t for the fact that he ordered a drink, it was 110% certain that Weasel would have strangled him at this point. Even though he couldn’t get drunk, he still rolled up his mask and enjoyed the taste of watered down whiskey… Damn Weasel.

“I don’t have any more jobs, so finish your drink and fuck off!” he yelled from down the bar for Wade’s benefit.

He gave him the finger back. It was unfortunate… He was hoping that with all the unliving he was doing, that maybe something would come up from the woodwork. Apparently not. He slammed the shot glass back down, rolling his mask back over his chin. Maybe it was time to go… He glanced toward the door, just as three kids came strolling in.

(They are clearly lost.)

[that one can’t be more than like.. twelve]

But, no, they were decidedly not lost. Not by the way the girl strolled up to the bar with purpose. The other two scurrying after her, clearly having more survival instinct than her. The youngest, hid behind the other boy wearing an Empire Strikes Back tee shirt. Vintage, nice.

(A New Hope is still the best Star Wars film.)

[gasp you did not]

Weasel looks up from washing a glass, not really having it. “Can I help you?”

The girl has character, but even she swallowed nervously at the seedy characters now looking at her. But she just jutted her chin, “Yeah, I’m looking for Deadpool.”

(Looking for…. Looking for us?!)

[JAILBAIT LOOK OUT RUN RUN RUN-]

Weasel stares, and then shrugs. Clearly, this would get Wade out of his bar. So, he merely pointed directly at Wade (He’s going to pay for that later…). “You’re looking at him.”

The three pairs of underage eyes look at him and he wants to die. He wants to run. He gives a choppy wave, “Uh, hey, guys, uh, come here often?”

[good one]

The girl gives him a very judgy once over, and then she is walking over to him. “We need to talk.”

(...Should we lay down on the ground?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun writing the dance scene... I try to write a cool action fic, but really, I am best at writing sappy little romantic scenes. I'm tempted to write a 50's Spideypool now. 
> 
> TRASH BYE LOL
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. <3 <3  
> Even if this fic is kind of all over the place lol.


	10. G-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Glamorous - Fergie & Ludacris

_September 24th 2018, Monday - 5:24pm  
_ POV Wade

There was something to be said about how much Wade’s life has fallen apart within the past week.

[don’t you mean your whole life?]

(It started when you were born.)

They speak the truth. But it doesn’t change the fact that Wade is speechless. _“We need to talk.”_ He points to himself and then to an empty table at the back of the bar. Because if he was about to get his ass ripped into by a bunch of teenagers (-that statement is wrong on so many levels-) then he sure as hell wasn’t doing in front of everyone.

The kids follow, sitting around him in a circle, effectively blocking him in. A triple threat of potential lawsuits.

[stop fidgeting]

(Show fear - and they’ll go for the jugular.)

“Soo, what can I, Deadpool, Merc with a Mouth, do for you?”

The Star Wars shirt speaks up, “We are looking for Spider-man.”

“-And we know that you and him were working together on a case-” continues the girl.

“-So we need to know everything you know about the disappearances,” pipes up the youngest.

“Didn’t realize Spidey had a posse…”

[of angry teenagers]

(Is there any other type of teenager?)

“He has partners.”

Partners, _partners_ , he tried to stop his brain right there. There was no way he wanted to picture this in any sort of… Just stop. He shook his head, “Okay… It’s nice that you guys are, concerned and all, but I don’t think it is the best idea to Goonie this shit. It’s not safe, you don’t want these people knowing who you are...”

[a classic]

(One of the best films.)

Star Wars and the girl share a look, but the youngest straightens up, “It is already too late for that. They already know who I am because they took my uncle-”

Shit. “Shit, I’m sorry-”

“-But I found him and Spider-man saved us. And now he is missing, and it is my fault.” He stares into Deadpool’s mask, “He’s helped _all_ of us. He’s our friend. And we owe it to him because he’d do the same, a thousand times over.” He coughs, glancing around the speechless table, “I just mean, we know the risks and we are taking them with or without your help…”

A moment of silence befalls the table. Even the boxes are quiet. And Wade can’t think of anything to argue that. So, he yells across the bar for a drink. Weasel walks over with a glass of watered down scotch and he takes a long sip. “So, what’s your names then?”

“Ned.”

“MJ.”

“Miles.”

He nods and just… Just breathes. “Right, ok, so it all began for me when I got this job…”

\---

“Problem is, I can’t find a lead as to who or where this kidnapper could be.”

[no matter how many heads we cut off]

(Best to keep that to yourself sweetie.)

Ned spoke up, “I think we can help with that.”

“We already know that all the victims are ex-convicts. Particularly chosen because they have no strong personal attachments or immediate family listed in their files,” MJ summarized.

Wade nods, makes sense, “So, no one will miss them.”

“Only, someone did.” Miles smiles, “Which means they made a mistake. They got sloppy. Aaron Davis was the sixth person that we know of taken. In his file he doesn’t have anybody listed, but if anyone were to dig just a little deeper, or even speak to my uncle in person, they’d know he has attachments. Which means they are getting sloppy, they’re picking people outside their comfort zone.”

“Okay… So, they’re desperate for bodies.”

[still doesn’t help us find Spidey]

“Yeah… so desperate they almost…” Miles fidgets in his chair, “Point and case is, Ned, can you pull up the correction facilities all the victims were located at?”

Ned is pulling out a laptop from his backpack, “On it.” MJ leans over his shoulder to watch. “It looks like… shit, the first four were all at the same place.”

MJ considers, “So, they all start in the same place… Someone who talks to the prisoners realizes they have no visitations…”

Ned shakes his head, “Who talks to prisoners almost daily about their life struggles-”

Wade blinks, “-A psychiatrist.”

Miles has this triumphant little grin, “Who can conduct follow-up sessions after they are out of prison if deemed necessary. Who would then request, and have access to a parole office files.”

Wade is seconds away from bouncing in his seat this is the closest to his been to.. Anything. “Ned?” MJ asks as the boy types furiously away at his laptop.

“Working on it… yeah- looks right, the resident psychiatrist was Dr. Hines.”

His mouth is suddenly dry. He reaches for his glass and chugs it. It’s a sweet burn on his lips.

(Of course it had to get personal.)

[and I was hoping it’d just be some ex-hydra buffoons]

“Alright, Garcia, tell me where to find Dr. Hines.”

MJ raises a brow, “Criminal minds, really?”

“I have such a crush on Derek Morgan, don’t tell anyone.”

Ned looked up from his computer, “Yeah, about that… There is nothing listed here. It’ll take some time.”

([Damn.])

\---

 _September 24 2018, Monday - 6:59pm  
_ POV Miles

“So, Miles, where did you get your mad profiling skills?” Ned nudged him amibically as the three waited for their train to home to arrive. The meeting with Deadpool went well. _Thank god_ . Though he hadn’t shown it at the time, he was literally about to shit a brick. He had read about Deadpool and he wasn’t sure if he could trust him but… But _Peter_ trusted him. So, that was enough for now.

He shrugs, “My dad is a cop. He always considers all connections, all leads, and follows them until they are absolute dead ends. If not the parole office, the next step was the prison. I got lucky it was that.”

“Wow, that’s _awesome_ dude!” Ned raises a hand, which Miles instantly high-fives. And something settles, warm, in his stomach.

There a rush of wind, and a familiar squeal of the train arriving. “We’re keeping him,” MJ says decidedly just as the doors open, and they wait briefly for those to exit, before hopping in.

\---

Miles’s parents aren’t happy that he is late calling them again. He lived in the schools dorms on the weekdays, and stayed home often on the weekends. On weekdays, they video chatted each night, to make sure he was doing alright. And he is pretty sure he would get a lecture, if not for the fact they were also over joyed that he had made new friends… It wasn’t like he was unpopular at his school. In fact, none of the kids really knew him enough to formulate any sort of opinion on him, there was just indifference. And Miles felt the same. He spent most of his time feeling like he didn’t belong there, so he remained invisible, in case someone would call him out for being an impostor.

He was just finishing his homework when his phone chimed.

_8:55pm New group created - @MercwithaMouth @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales_

_8:56pm Group name updated ‘THE GOONIES GUCCI GANG’ @ChairguyLeeds_

_@MJWatson: Ned._

_@MercwithaMouth: HAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA X)_

@ChairguyLeeds: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

@MilesandMorales: gg

\---

 _July 27th 2011, Wednesday - 7:30am  
_ POV Peter

Movement around camp was a little slow, as a lot of them were hung over. But, eventually, they packed up the essentials to leave. They would be moving on to the next leg of their mission, what it was, Peter was not informed. He also couldn’t help but ponder his own fate. If they wanted to rid themselves of him, this would be the perfect opportunity. Yet, Stryker made no move to free him of his figurative bonds, but he also didn’t make any threats respective to Peter’s life. So, he’d take it.

A helicopter arrived shortly in the open field to pick them up. He strapped in, closing his eyes as the engine started to lift off. The last time he was on a plane, or a private jet, he had crashed it on Coney island, barely missing the city. He hadn’t flew since. Not that he had a lot of need to, except politely declining mini Avenger gatherings in Upstate New York, refusing to explain to Mr. Stark that he had developed some trauma from the incident. He already treated Peter like a child, so it didn’t bode well. He did multiplication tables in his head, trying to focus on anything other than flying and an eminent panic attack.

“G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S!” Wade Wilson yelled over chopper’s engines, “yeah, G-L-”

Peter looks over at a happy screaming Wade, much to the displeasure of everyone else on board, and couldn’t help but join in, “-A-M-O-R-O-U-S!”

Together they sang, “We flying first class, up in the sky, poppin’ champagne, livin’ my life in the fast lane, and I won’t change. For the glamorous, oh the flossy flossy!”

“PERMISSION TO SHOOT SIR!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi. So, I've updated all the previous chapters to include dates. Because saying IN TEH PAST or in ThE CUREENT is just like confusing. So, I really hope this makes it a more pleasant reading experience.
> 
> Next, Tony Stark is working hard on finding Peter. But if I add another perspective to this story lol I don't know if I will live. Just know Irondad is trying his very best right now.
> 
> Second - next week there will probably only be (possibly?) one update. I'm going to the city to participate in a fundraising walk for kidney disease with my bff, so I won't be around to write.
> 
> This chapter is a little short because, truth be told guys, I'm kind of struggling right now. I know where I want to go with the story, but I'm trying not to just zip to the juicy end. Pacing here... And also I just felt like I was starting to go OOC. BUT my little break coming up next week should help.
> 
> I'm like, so deep in this ship right now it hurts. If you are too, feel free to scream into the void with me on tumblr @ bendingsolo
> 
> But thank you, THANK YOU guys so much for your continued support. I appreciate every comment, subscription, kudo, etc!!


	11. Let's hear it for the boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for the chapter: Let's Hear It For The Boy - Deniece Williams
> 
> because let's hear it for our boys - Peter and Miles

_August 3rd 2011, Wednesday - 11:30am  
_ POV Peter

It was _beautiful._

Moscow was beautiful, and in the midst of summer, so it was warm, but also cool enough that he was comfortable wearing a light jacket. One, that was loaned to him by Bradley, after he had walked around drowning in Wade’s for a day. Standing on the balcony of a lascivious hotel room, Peter could _almost_ fool himself into thinking this was nice. Perhaps, it was a vacation, much needed, with Aunt May. Or, maybe he was traveling for business, conducting more research for Oscorp.

Arms crossed on the railing, the mood is soured as he thinks about Aunt May, Harry, Ned, Miles, and MJ… All his friends that he’s left behind. He straightens up, fingers tracing the outline of his phone in his pocket. He had tried his phone the moment he had some privacy, but it was completely fried. Not that it would really help if it were working anyway, it wasn’t like he could just send a text and expect they get it seven years later. It was frustrating.

“We should just do what we usually do, take them out-” Victor begins.

“-can’t just risk valuable information being erased-” another voice interrupts, reasonably. Peter is drawn back to the present, and the meeting currently occurring in his hotel room.

Or, his and Wade’s hotel room. Since they’ve arrived in Moscow, the team had located and captured a member of the anti-mutant extremist group. The woman was currently tied up in a ‘safehouse’ a few blocks down with Zero, for the past three days. It was causing Peter a moral dilemma that he _really_ didn’t want to contemplate on. Things were a little gray for him right now, especially when there were kids in danger, the photos and John’s words still haunted his thoughts. _This is war_.

“Then we just walk in,” the conversation pauses with Stryker’s comment.

“You mean... as bait?” Bradley spoke up, in a soft voice.

“Yes,” Silverfox speaks up, “We have Miss Hines to take one of us inside, and from there we can get the intel we need before they can delete it.”

Interest peaked, Peter turns away from the balcony, lingering in the door frame as he wasn’t not entirely sure if he were welcomed in this conversation. “No,” John Wraith says, arms crossed. “Even _if_ we can get in, we’ll have limited time, as they’ll recognize us immediately.”

The group considers. “It’s a risk we have to take, we will just have to move fast-”

“-I’ll do it.” Seven pairs of eyes turn to him again, and Peter suddenly feels uncomfortable for his outburst. But - “They don’t know my face. And I know about computers, so, uh, I can do it.”

John shook his head slowly, as if to say, ‘no kid, bad idea.’ Stryker seemed to actually consider it.

Fox speaks up, “No. We can’t trust him.”

Peter tries not to take offense at the calloused statement. Before he can speak up, however, Stryker is already scheming, waving off Fox’s concern. “We don’t have to. All we need is a distraction. While Parker is entering, we send in another.”

Silverfox looks like she wants to protest again, but it is clear the decision has been made by Stryker. He gestures for them to gather, and Peter comes up to stand next to a blank faced Wade. Looking down at the blueprints of an private, secured base. “Zero, Fox, and Victor will be our eyes,” he points to several buildings strategically surrounding the base, snipers then. “You three will make sure Miss Hines carries out on her part of the deal.”

“Peter,” Stryker’s eyes linger on him, “you will be escorted in as Miss Hines’ prisoner, you will then deactivate the cameras in the tunnels, to allow in our team. And get whatever intel you can.” Peter nods so Stryker moves on, “Bradley and Logan, you two will infiltrate from the underground.”

“Dukes and Wilson,” he points to a building a few blocks away, “will await my signal here, and will then infiltrate once we have the intel. And John is on escape detail…”

\---

_August 3rd 2011, Wednesday - 12:55pm_

The door slams shut. And Wade leans against it, face still blank. Peter pays him no mind, focusing, instead, on the blueprints before him. Trying to memorize where the computer lab was located, as well as all the possible exits. “You know, Stryker is letting you do this only because he knows it is likely to be a trap. Or a shit show, at the very least.”

Peter glances up because that much was obvious to even him. But this was also too great an opportunity to maybe gain some leniency. _And_ \- “It doesn’t matter, we still need that intel.” There are a great number of kids that need help. And Peter never was good at standing on the sidelines when someone needed help, he wasn’t about to start now.

Wade just _stares_ , and so Peter looks back down at the prints. Wade makes a frustrated noise, something close to a whine, “There’s a _we_ now? No offense, kid, but I don’t remember you reading the terms of service.”

Peter prickles, “Yeah, well, I didn’t have much of a choice in that matter, did I?” He glares, “But if there are _kids_ in danger, then I’m not just going to sit around and do nothing.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Wade continues in Russian, likely saying something offensive, yeah, definitely offensive by the sounds of it. If it were a better time, Peter would like to ask how many languages Wade actually knew. He had spoken French not long ago… But he also supposed it made sense with how much Wilson loved to talk. Wade streamed back into English “-fucking granny titties, Parker, _please_ , tell me you at least know how to use a gun.”

His body shivers, like a cold bucket of water was dumped on him, at the thought of a gun. A gun. A killing device. The same device that took Uncle Ben from him, hands pressed against his stomach, trying to keep pressure. Blood just kept coming, turning everything red, he pressed harder but it was useless… “ _No_ ,” he says, more forcefully than he really means. “But a prisoner can’t have a weapon on them anyway.”

“That’s it, we tell Stryker you can’t do this, like now.”

Peter looks up again, “I’m doing it Wade. It’s already decided.”

He throws his hands up, “Alright, _fine_ , your fucking funeral- what do I even care if you die? I expect an invitation by the way.”

“...To my funeral?”

“Yes, don’t be rude. We’ve shared a room for, like, a week.”

Peter shakes his head, small smile forming, “If I’m dead how can I send invitations?”

“Details.”

\---

 _September 29th 2018, Saturday - 8:45am  
_ POV Miles

There was a slight problem. Problem being, Miles still had his internship at Oscorp to contend with. And he didn’t exactly feel safe going there, not when it was clear the people who took Peter and his uncle knew he was employee there. They also probably knew more, but he tried not to think about it. He could keep that vague veil of ignorance to it, for the moment at least. So, to make up for it he spent most of his time, besides doing school work and trying to figure out the missing Peter situation, trying to work on his project from his laptop. But there was only so much he could do…

He was in the middle of a slight melt down, when his phone chimed. He pounced on the opportunity for a distraction.

_Happy Hogan - Received: 8:46am ‘Your uncle Aaron Davis just woke up’_

Miles jumped to his feet and quickly got dressed. He raced out the door, shouting that he’d be going to lab, after all, to his parents. He shot a text on his way down the stairs, as the elevator to their apartment building was broken. _To Happy Hogan - Sent: 8:50am ‘thanks be there ASAP’_

\---

Miles had never been so happy to see his uncle. He had practically tackled him, even as he looked dazed, still processing what Mr. Hogan and the doctors had carefully explained to him… He was free now. They were taking care of him. “Miles?” he whispers, arms raising to hug Mile’s back, in the most positively uncomfortable hug ever as he was laying down and Miles was stretched across the bed. He didn’t care.

“Everything is going to be alright,” Miles says because he has to believe it.

\---

Miles had a lot of questions for his uncle. But when he tried asking, his uncle just got this blank expression, and it took him a few minutes to come back around. So, he kept the questions to himself, for now. He would give him a little more time to heal. Instead, they made small talk. Miles told him about school. About his internship project. And about MJ and Ned, who were quickly becoming two of his favorite people. He talked until his uncle’s eye’s drooped and he fell asleep.

He left the room a little while after, the tight feeling in his chest releasing, just a little bit. He was closing the door as gently as he could, when a voice behind him made him jump. “Miles?”

He turned, “Mr. Stark!”

Mr. Stark gave him a small, warm smile but it was weak. Miles could see the from the circles under his eyes, that he hadn’t slept in at least a few days. “Tony is fine, really, Mr. Stark makes me think about my dad.”

“Right, er, Tony.”

“How is your uncle?”

“He is doing well… I tried asking him about the-”

Tony raises a hand to stop him, “Give him time, he will talk when he is ready, trust me… Everyone needs time to heal after something like that.” Tony gestures for him to follow, and they head away from the ward towards the elevators. “How are you doing?”

Honestly, he didn’t really know how he was doing. He hadn’t really stopped to think about that. And he didn’t really want to either. “Okay.”

Tony nods, like he was expecting that answer, he presses the elevator’s button. “Did you eat? Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?”

Miles doesn’t really know what his life is becoming, having Tony Stark asking him if he was hungry. He felt like he was lucid dreaming. He pinched himself. “Uh, sure.”

\---

Tony wasn’t a bad cook, per say, but he wasn’t a great one either. He was also chaos in the kitchen, leaving broken egg shells on the counter, and pancake batter everywhere. Miles offered to cut the fruit Tony had pulled out of his fridge, if not to keep himself from cleaning up the mess he was currently making. They chatted some, Miles talked about his project at Oscorp a little bit, and Tony was a genuinely interested listener. He even had some feedback. It was nice.

When a pile of foods - eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fruit was finally assembled they made their plates. They stood at the island, eating slowly. It was a few bites in before Tony spoke up again. “To be honest, I really just wanted to talk to you… I know that you, MJ and Ned are all very close with Peter.” He sighed. “And I know it is, not easy, when your friend is missing… But, really, please don’t go looking for these people again.”

Miles swallowed a lump in his throat, looking down and pushing the food around his plate, he nods.

“Good. I just don’t want to see any of you get hurt.” He nods again. “I _will_ find Peter.”

Miles looks up and sees the hard, stubborn look on Tony’s face. And he believes it. “Have you found anything…?”

Tony’s expression softens a little bit, and he goes back to eating. “Yeah, actually, we were able to recover the computers at the, er, lab.” Miles looks on with interest. “They were completely fried… So, it has taken a while between me and Friday to recover what we can. But from what I can tell, so far, it seems like, they were trying to make a teleportation device. Where to, I’m not sure yet...”

\---

Miles offered to help clean up, about five times, but Tony just waved him off, saying they both had work to do. The man was already engrossed in a tablet, and even though he offered for Miles to stay, Miles had other things to do today. He hovers in the living room, looking at Tony curled up over the tablet, muttering to himself, feeling compelled to say _something_. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looks up, surprise flashing across his face in an instant before disappearing again, “Of course.” He says unsure, like he really doesn’t know how to respond to that. Like he isn’t thanked very often.

Miles smiles and leaves. On the elevator ride down, he pulls out his phone.

He opens up the groupchat.

_THE GOONIES GUCCI GANG - @MercwithaMouth @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales_

Since the first initial messages, the group chat was currently just filled with various Spider-man memes that they found online. He typed a message.

_10:37am_

_@MilesandMorales: guys I have news_

_@MJWatson: Do tell_

_@MilesandMorales: my uncle woke up_

_@MJWatson: Great news I’m glad Miles_

_@MilesandMorales: ty I tried asking him about what he remembers but he just shutdown_

_@MJWatson: Just give it time_

_@MilesandMorales: yeah - also mr. stark said that the computers at the lab look like they were some kind of teleportation device he hasn’t figured it out quite yet_

_@MJWatson: Teleportation? Interesting._

_@MercwithaMouth: glad ur uncle ok ! teleportation???_

_@MilesandMorales: yeah mr. stark isn’t sure either_

_@ChairguyLeeds: it’s good your uncle is up Miles_

_@ChairguyLeeds: but I got some news too, I found out where Dr. Hines is_

_@MercwithaMouth: SEND_

_@MercwithaMouth: NOW_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First - you may be thinking, how is this going to pan out? I can tell you... NOT GOOD. Things are about to get messy next chapter. 
> 
> Second - I feel the need to explain the Aunt May situation.  
> Aunt May was told by Tony that Peter was sent on another 'job/internship' to Wakanda which is intense about privacy right now due to the Accords. So, that is why she cannot reach him. But she is really pissed about it. And getting concerned. And Peter is definitely going to get a REAL lecture when he gets back.
> 
> Third - I created another fic or a "part 2" which will be drabbles that I write from Past!Wade's perspective. I will not be including any Past!Wade POV in this fic. Mainly because I want to keep just one Peter and one Wade perspective here. Otherwise it would conflict with present Wade too much, and the character switch would just be too confusing for the narrative. SO, if you are at all interested in Past!Wade's stuff it is there. 
> 
> I won't be around this weekend to write, as I have that trip. But I'm hoping to get another piece of the story out on Friday before I go. If not expect it on Tuesday next week! (:
> 
> Thank you all for your continued patience and support!!! I hope you have a good day/night and I will see you in the next shit storm chapter!


	12. Going under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Going Under - Evanescence
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/spectrolitek/playlist/3GcEc5vbmmz7ZjNQmjXBRi?si=PHP2PxnASc6jP17Utoj4rA)  
>   
> 
> I had a great weekend in the city! The walk was great and as a whole the fundraiser raised over a million dollars toward kidney disease so that was amazing!!! Hope you all are well as well. <3 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support for this fic!!! All the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. It helps give me the motivation to keep writing, and I'm super determined to finish this fic... Even though the end seems so far away right now, this is the most I've ever written for one fic and there is still more to come. Did I mention this was slow burn guys? Because it is. Strap in. (:

_August 3rd 2011, Wednesday - 11:55pm_  
POV Peter  
  
Peter fought to fall asleep that night. He had been running on fumes, the past few days before he got zapped here. And now, strangely enough, with the exception of the travelling, Peter had more time on his hands. In other words, more time to finally catch up on sleep. He supposed it was lucky, that as soon as his head hit the pillow, often times, he would fall asleep. No time to contemplate on things. But now he couldn't stop. He rolled over, onto his left side, with a groan and glared at the white wall.

He tried desperately to dampen the racing thoughts in his head by counting sheep. But it didn't do him much good. He was up to the hundreds, when he heard what sounded like a whimper. Peter held his breath, focusing his senses and ears in the otherwise still room. And then he heard it again, except this time it was a mumbled. Of what, Peter couldn't make out. He sat up, squinting over at the other twin size bed to his right. He only saw the bare outline of Wade's back, turned towards the glass door balcony, moonlight and the city's artificial lights streaming on in.

"Wade?"  
  
There is no response. He must of been having a dream. Wade mumbled again, and thrashed in sleep. So, Peter stood, deciding that it would be best to wake him in the case that it was actually a nightmare. He reached for his bare shoulder, gently trying to shake him awake, "Wade?"  
  
Wade moves blindly, and fast with shocking accuracy. He turns on his side, seizing Peter by the throat, and in an instant is squeezing with all his might. Peter's eyes prickle with tears as he chokes on the sudden pressure,  
"Wade!" He tries to cry but it comes off as more of a gasp than anything else. He reaches up and pries off Wade's hands, paying no mind to the fact he was obviously using his super strength to hold him off. "Wade!" he yells again, and suddenly, thankfully, he goes lax in Peter's grasp.  
  
Clouded blue eyes clear, and stare up at in him utter shock. "Peter?" he groans, voice still heavy with sleep. He takes Peter in, not moving to escape Peter's grasp, eyes widening at the red marks on Peter's neck. "Oh god, are you alright? Tell me you are alright? I'm so so sorry..."  
  
Peter lets him go, moving to rub the tender flesh on his neck, willing it away. Yeah, that was definitely going to leave a bruise. "Believe it or not, I don't actually have a choking fetish, thanks."  
  
Wade makes this noise, between a self deprecating, surprised laugh and a whimper. It does something to Peter that he'd rather not think about thank you very much. As did that sad smile on Wade's face. "Of course not, baby, but if you have any kinky fetishes please do share."  
  
Peter clears his throat, ducking his head, hoping that Wade can't see the very obvious blush on his face.  
  
"Really, though, I am so sorry."  
  
Peter nodded, staring at the floor like it was fascinating, "It is okay, really... I shouldn't have startled you."  
  
"Don't," Wade pauses, leveling the sudden heat, anger, in his voice, "don't blame yourself. Or make excuses. This is all on me. This is all me."  
  
He shifted on his feet, looking up to see Wade watching him intently. He was serious. Peter nodded again, "It's okay. Really... Does... Does that happen often?"  
  
"The choking? No. The nightmares, yes, only almost every time I sleep," he pushed a hand through blonde hair. Some of it stuck to his face, sweaty, and Peter felt an urge to stroke it back for him. He also is suddenly aware of how very naked Wade was. His bare chest, broad shoulders, and abs, out on full display. Muscle and soft skin illuminated by the moonlight, with no shred of insecurity. Not even an after thought to cover it up. So unlike Deadpool, who inched back, trying to cover his scarred skin as quickly as possible.  
  
"Why do you think nobody wants to room with me?" He is drawn back to reality by Wade's voice, turning pink, at yet again, being caught staring. Blue eyes flicker with mirth as he meets them.  
  
Peter refuses to back down this time. He licks his lips, and those damn eyes follow the movement. He enjoys it, just a little bit. "Of course, you would like talking in your sleep," he deadpans dryly.  
  
It startles a laugh out Wade. And it makes Peter chuckle too. It ends briefly, but the air is lighter. They stay still, like that for a minute, just enjoying the moment. It feels good.  
  
"Are you sure, about tomorrow? We can still make a new plan."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure." Peter says because he is sure it is the right thing to do - to save those kids. He can't be swayed on that.  
  
Wade nods slowly, "Alright, then I promise to make sure nothing happens to you."  
  
Peter opens his mouth to protest because that is ridiculous to promise. But, Wade had already laid back down and pulled the covers up over his head, as if it ended the discussion. What an idiot. Peter heaved a sigh, and returned back to his own bed. Surprisingly, his mind was finally silent. He closed his eyes. "Good night Wade."  
  
"Night Peter."  
  
\---  
_August 4th 2011, Thursday - 7:33am_  
POV Peter  
  
Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. It wasn't like he hadn't done crazier things in the past. Accidentally taking down a jet, luring Electro into the Hudson river, just to name a few, but that had been Spider-man. And right now he was normal. Purposefully normal, with hands bound by zip ties (though they hung loosely enough to ensure he could break free), being led into a very secure laboratory.  
  
Miss Hanes was young, but no less tough, as she held a steady hand on Peter's shoulder, nails digging in. She would cooperate as far as it took to get in, with the careful convincing of three snipers trained on her every move.  
_"Nice n'easy now,_ " Stryker mumbles, a comforting voice in Peter's ear now. Hines pauses them at the entrance, speaking in rapid Russian with a startled looking guard, and almost immediately the gates are opening with a faint buzz.  
  
They're in. Peter relaxes a bit as they begin walking across the courtyard, moving as fast as possible without being suspicious. _"This is Bradley, Logan and I are in position for entry."_  
  
"Copy, Parker, deactivate those cameras."  
  
Peter inclines his head just a bit, but says nothing. The inner doors slide open, revealing two men. One was a man with white hair, and an equally white beard, dressed in a white lab coat caught pacing as it opened. The other a buff, stoic man with dark brown hair, and a gun holsters strapped across his expansive chest.  
  
"Carol! Good lord, where have you been? We've been so worried!" The old man surges forward, grasping Hines's hand, and squeezing tightly. "We feared the worst."  
  
"Who is the kid?" Barked the brunette, arms crossed, eyeing Peter wearily.  
  
Carol squeezes the old man's hand, "I'm okay Dr. Cornelius... He's the reason I've been gone so long." She levels the man evenly, and gently pulls back from the old man. "I must go to the lab at once, to run some tests."  
  
"Yes, yes of course!" Carol pushed Peter towards none too gently, and Dr. Cornelius urgently followed, much to Peter's displeasure. Fortunately, the brunette lost interest from there and headed off in another direction. "So, why the boy?"  
  
_"Heads up, we have company,"_ Fox's voice crackled in his ear.  
  
_"Should I take him out?"_ Zero's low, calm voice asked.  
  
_"No, stick to the plan, Parker get those cameras off - then we are free to fire."_  
  
_"Roger."_  
  
"He has a dormant mutation, I want to draw some blood and run some tests." Peter's step faltered because that was not part of the plan. He couldn't have his blood drawn, and have it revealed that he actually, did, in fact have a mutation from a radioactive spider. He hated to think what his DNA could do to this time line. But Hine's nails dug into his shoulder and he was urged forward. He couldn't stop now.  
  
"Interesting!" Dr. Cornelius looks at Peter, hungrily, intrigued. Like he is a specimen and not a person who can clearly hear this conversation. "Should we take some skin samples as well?"  
  
Hines squeezes his shoulder, like she expects him to stumble again, "Only if the blood test results turn up something worth while," she says breezily, pausing at a large glass door. Dr. Cornelius quickly scans his badge and they are in. Carol pauses and looks around, "Could you fetch the kit please?"  
  
The doctor nods and heads off, leaving just Peter and Hines. She steps to the side, "You have five minutes."  
  
Peter doesn't waste any time in responding, he snaps the zip ties easily and dives onto the computer and begins searching. He finds the security cameras easily enough, but it is figuring out which ones are the right security cameras as none of them are named. It's simply cmr01, cmr02, etc. So, Peter decides to do the next best thing, and loop all the cameras to the same footage from yesterday. He presses the com in his ear, "We're clear, cameras are on loop."  
  
_"Logan, Bradley, your move."_  
  
_"Roger that, moving in now."_  
  
Peter doesn't waste anymore time, he pulls out his flash drive, and begins transferring all the files to it. _"Parker, I lost sight on Hines, where is she?"_  
  
He turns around, glancing around the room, but she is no where in sight. Shit. He presses the com, "I don't see her either."  
  
_"Parker, get out now."_  
  
Peter turns back to the computer, 40%, and shakes his head, "I can't, I'm copying the files." Getting the intel was more important at the moment, he wasn't about to blow the mission yet.  
There is silence on the com. And then there is the sound of gunfire in the building, 45%.  
  
_"-Compromised they know we're here-"_ Bradley said urgently, the same gunfire echoing over the line in Peter's ear, he swore, 49%.  
  
_"Parker! Get. OUT!"_  
  
_"Peter-"_ Wade's voice was enough to give him pause, 55%, but he wasn't leaving. _"Go."_  
  
He shook his head. "Can't do, sixty percent." He paced the room, moving to lock the lab's doors instead, going as far as to push a few examination tables in front of it. He then began to cut the power to the lab's automatic doors and sabotaged the lights... At the very least, he could stall their entry into the lab and make him harder to find.  
  
_"Taking heavy fire!"_ Bradley's voice was punctuated the sound of bullets. Peter turned off the lights of the lab, and ducked under the computer's table.  
  
_"That's it! Wilson and Dukes are approaching!"_ Wade's snapped in his ear, it had an edge to it. Peter didn't have to contemplate it as gunfire was sounding from outside the complex now.  
  
_"Wilson, I did not give you the signal goddamit! Cover them!"_ Stryker is furious.  
  
_"Roger,"_ Silverfox says easily.  
  
_"I'm getting tired of covering your ass, Wilson,"_ Victor growled over the com.  
  
_"And what a fine ass it is, you're welcome Vinny!"_ Wade cheers over the com, receiving something that sounded like a threat and growl in response.  
  
_"Wilson, Dukes, get to Logan and Bradley for back up."_  
  
_"No can do sir, going to evac Parker."_  
\---  
_September 30th 2018, Sunday - 9:09am_  
POV Wade  
  
Deadpool sits on a rooftop eating a chocolate glazed donut because donuts are good. One can never turn down a good donut. They're just universally accepted. They're great.  
  
(Tangents, you're very good at going off on them.)  
  
This was true. Wade was very good at avoiding his problems. He's been doing it for years. He's practiced at it. But this is unavoidable. It is fate. The past coming back to haunt him all over again. He finishes the donut.  
  
There is movement in the apartment again. A short brown haired woman pours herself a pot of coffee. And, yuppers, it is her. Still looks the same, just a little older. Seasoned. Unlike Wade. He looks like a fucking monster. He wonders if the universe is telling him something.  
  
[remind me again why we aren't just killing her for hurting Spidey?]  
  
"It's personal."  
  
(Cue the past section again.)  
\---  
_August 4th 2011, Thursday - 8:01am_  
POV Peter  
  
89% - the automatic lights outside the lab flickered to life, revealing Carol Hines and the brunette with the guns. Peter bit down on the inside of his cheek, carefully hidden under the desk still. He watched as she tried unlocking the door to no avail. He pressed the com, "Hines and somebody are trying to break in the lab, almost completely downloaded."  
  
_"On my way!"_ Wade calls in his ear, as gunfire still crackles outside. Peter closes his eyes and breathes. Tries not to panic. If he can just stall enough time Wade will come and they can get the intel out. And he won't reveal himself.  
  
92% - much to Peter's discomfort, they pick the lock, and the man begins to strong arm the doors open an inch at time. He glances up at the computer screen, watching the countdown in the dark. 94%... 95%.... 97%... 99%... The doors squeal in protest as they are shoved aside, leaving enough space for the pair to make quick work of Peter's little barricade. 100%, he reaches up and yanks out the flash drive, pocketing it, and crouching back down under the table, just in time for the pair to step into the dark room.  
  
"You sure he is still here?" the man asks, pulling a gun from its holster.  
  
Hines nodded, "Yes, they wanted intel. He wouldn't have left without it." She tried the lights, which Peter had successfully broken. They both began inspecting the room, in the dark. He held his breath, and crawled out from under the table... If he could just make a break for the exit while their backs were turned...  
  
There was an opportunity, and Peter took it just as the dark haired brunette turned. He raced for the door, adrenaline pounding, only to be taken aback by the sound of a gun firing. His spidey-sense went haywire, body twisting to the left, just out of the way enough that the bullet just clipped his shoulder. He fell against the illuminated glass, blood smearing red, brightened by the hallway's lights. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark.

  
"Well, Carol, looks like we might have a mutant after all." He cocked the gun again, "Let's see if he can dodge this bullet so easily."  
  
Peter pivoted, pushing off the glass with his good arm, and moved to run. Except he ran straight into a warm body. Hands were on him, and when he tried to pull away, a voice soothed him, music to his ears. "Easy there, skipper." They were out in the hallway now, and Wade was a comforting, steady sight. The brunette and Carol approached, and Wade positioned himself between them and Peter. Peter pressed the wound on his shoulder, urging it to stop bleeding sluggishly. "Why don't you guys pick on someone your own size?" His katanas were pulled, shining silver in the artificial light.  
  
"With pleasure," the man pulled out his second pistol and began firing. Peter ducked for cover, and Wade deflected with his fucking swords. Peter couldn't believe it and he was watching it.  
  
The bullets fell, hot at Wade's feet, as he backed up down the hall. Once the man's guns clicked empty, Wade's face lit up with a grin. "My turn." And then he ran, blades shining bright and deadly. The man moved to dodge Wade's direct assault, but the blades turned midswing, in a flash, nicking his left hand. Barely more than a drop of blood pooled at the tip of Wade's blade, and he watched in satisfaction, and to the man's horror, as his the gun clattered to the floor. As did his fingers. He yelled, more in shock than anything, clutching empty palm to his chest. "That's what you get for being trigger happy."  
  
_"Evac! Evac! They-"_ The com broke up on Bradley again, machine gun fire popping the background. Wade's head tilted, concerned. _"-Logan's down! Logan's down! Repeat retreat!"_  
  
The man had taken Wade's pause to recover, good hand moving the pistol to fire. He shot, once, but missed. It was enough, though, to snap Wade from his trance. He swung his blades, and they danced in his hands, easily reflecting the next shot fired. And then they came down, slicing through bone and flesh in one swoop. They took off an entire arm from the elbow down. A scream erupted down the hall, and the man fell to his knees.  
  
But Wade didn't care. Didn't acknowledge it. He was stoic. He righted the blades that now dripped with blood, and turned. He set his sights on Carol Hines, and all in his sight was red. She stumbled back because she, too, saw death in Wade's eyes. _"Retreat everyone! They got Logan, repeat, they have Logan!"_  
  
_"Everyone evac, now! Plan B!"_  
  
Plan B, was plan bomb. But Wade made no indication of having heard any of the warnings. His sights were set on Hines. He approached, slowly, like a predator cornering its prey, seconds away from striking. Peter leapt to his feet. "Wade, stop!" He didn't stop. He didn't pause. Peter grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to hold him back, "Please, Wade, we have to go, this isn't you!"  
  
It was enough. It was enough to make Wade snap. He tugged away from Peter's grasp, harshly, it made Peter flinch as the bullet wound in his arm throbbed, and bled in protest. "You don't even know me!" Wade screamed and lunged for Carol.  
  
Peter couldn't let it happen. He couldn't just let Wade kill somebody. He launched onto his back, even as his shoulder screamed, he pressed all his weight onto Wade. He thrashed in Peter's hold, but it gave Carol enough time to help the brunette up and run. Wade screeched in protest, "How dare you help her get away! This is all her fault!"  
  
Peter's vision begins to blotch, pain over-firing as he tries to hold Wade back. He grits his teeth, "I'm...not helping...her...I'm..helping...you!" As soon as they are out of sight, he lets go because he can't hold much longer.  
  
Wade wheels around on him, all terrible, righteous anger etched on his face, the edge, softening just enough at the sight of Peter's bloody shirt. "Shit, fuck, Peter," he grabs Peter's good shoulder, and pulls him close. There is still rage radiating off him... But his hands are gentle and warm, as they hold Peter up, and drag him out of the building. Gentle... He thinks, as the world blurs in bursts of red, and orange and heat. Warm, he thinks it fades into nothingness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP STAN LEE  
> Thank you for all you did and for being such a lovely person you will be missed forever and always.


	13. All these things that I've done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:
> 
> All These Things That I've Done - The Killers

_September 30th 2018, Sunday - 9:11am  
_ POV Wade

[ _cute_ ... so we aren’t slashing just because some kid in the past asked us _not_ to? since when has that ever stopped us]

(Only once, apparently.)

Wade stood up and dusted the crumbs off his suit. “Like I said, it is personal.”

[mysterious]

(You know you can’t keep secrets from us, though you try, in vain.)

 _Don’t think about him… Don’t think about him… Don’t think about him._ “Yeah well, that is all in the past… It doesn’t matter anymore. She has to answer for her crimes.”

(Slow down there Batman, you’re starting to sound like you actually have _morals_.)

He ignores it. Instead, he promptly hops down onto the fire escape and begins his descent.

[umm any particular reason we aren’t just busting in per-usual way?]

But Wade is already thinking a mile a minute, and he doesn’t even really hear the boxes anymore. No, he wants to do this right. He wants to give Hines a gift. Wants it to be subtle. But it also has to set the right mood. He glances around, sighting an old beaten cardboard box. _Perfect._

\---

 _September 30th 2018, Sunday - 10:27am  
_ POV Wade

It took a while. Took a while for Carol Hines to open her door and find a neatly wrapped package with her name on it. It took even longer for her to succumb to curiosity over whatever self preservation she had. But it was _totally_ one-hundred percent worth it, to hear her screech down the hall.

He waited a moment, before skipping down the hall, and giving her door a light, upbeat knock. There was suddenly silence in the apartment, and then a rustle. A few moments the door cracked open and Carol Hines peeked out through the crack. Wade didn’t waste a second, he thrust his wrist, just a stub through the crack. It was grotesque, blood having clotted and crusted around it, as it was at its beginning healing stages.  It always took him longer to grow entire limbs back. _Totally worth it_.

“Need a _hand_ ?” he cheered, even as Hines attempted to slam the door shut on his arm. He pushed all his weight against the door, and unluckily for Hines, she was a petite woman. She didn’t let him in that easily, however, she thrust a paring knife deep into his bicep. He groaned, “ _OW, rude!”_

The door swung shut behind him, and as he reached with his good hand to pull the knife from his stinging muscle, Hines skirted back around to the kitchen. A countertop and a plethora of knives now between them. “Who are you, what do you want?” Hines hissed.

Wade mocks offense, pressing good hand, bloody knife still in his grasp, to his chest. “You opened my gift without even reading the card first?” He points accusingly at the bloody box on the floor, containing his left hand, severed off with the middle finger pointing proudly up.

[and I thought it’d be a dick in a box]

(That’s just bad taste. And creepy.)

Wade shakes his head, “And sexual harassment.”

[or a bomb]

“Unoriginal. Overplayed.”

Hines pulls out another, bigger knife, and skirts around the counter. She holds out the knife, defensively, as she bends down to snatch up the card. She opens it up, startled for a moment, as it begins playing _Star War’s Imperial March_ loudly.

(Luke, I am your father.)

[idiot, you know he doesn’t actually say that in the movie]

(Shut up.)

“Wade… Wilson?”

She looks at him quizzically. She doesn’t remember. How rude.

(Yeah, doesn’t remember the name of many people from seven years ago… So offensive.)

[that’s fair]

He sighs, dropping the bloody knife, “Maybe this will help…” He reaches up and tugs, pulling off his mask. And for the first time, in his entire six years of suffering with his bullshit, he _enjoys_ her reaction.

She recoils and then pauses. Looking deeper, realization lights her face, and she grasps the knife tighter. “Wade Wilson… What the _fuck_ happened to you?”

He grins, sores pulling his skin tightly, “Long story, but same thing that is going to happen to you, if you don’t talk.”

\---

 _August 4th 2011, Thursday - 5:25pm  
_ POV Peter

Peter woke to yelling and a throbbing head. He tried to sit up, but there was a painful tug on his right hand, an IV, and his right shoulder  _screamed_. Yeah, that’s right, he got shot. He tried relaxing back into the pillows that were tucked all around his body, like a large cradle. The over attention was most likely Wade’s doing, he mused. He looked around the room, determining that he was back in the hotel room he and Wade shared. He closed his eyes again, trying focus in on the conversation going on in the hallway behind him.

“Out of the question Wilson!” Stryker’s voice boomed. “We are headed out tomorrow morning.”

“We can’t just desert him. He’s part of this team,” Wade’s voice barely holds restraint. Frustration dripping from his very being, Peter can feel it all the way from his bed.

“I agree, we should go after Logan,” Victor pipes up.

“We can’t. We have act on the intel that Logan sacrificed himself for. If we don’t, they’ll have time to change locations and everything was all for nothing,” Silverfox effectively shuts everyone up.

Silence lingers for a few more moments, before Stryker nods, “We move first thing in the morning. Get some rest.”

The room empties. Wade slams the door shut behind them. And then Peter hears rustling behind him. He cranes his neck over to see, Wade stuffing his duffle bag with the clothes scattered around his twin-sized bed. “What are you doing?” he croaks, noting how dry his mouth is.

Wade jumps. He looks blank for a moment, before he is rushing over to Peter’s bedside. “You’re awake! Thank god!”

Peter squirms at Wade’s henning, checking his temperature, fluffing the many pillows, and pulling the blankets back up his chest. “Stop, I’m fine… Really.”

Wade frowns, “You’re not fine. You got shot. And nearly bled out when you were-” He stops. Clearing his throat instead. “We removed the bullet from your shoulder, though, I think it might scar.”

Peter nods, moving to sit up again, this time with Wade’s help. He didn’t resist. He knew that Wade and the others would surely notice… The fact that the bullet wound was healing about three times faster than it should. So, he’s going to have to tell them something. Better to give some half truths, in order to avoid further suspicion. He hesitates. “S’okay… I, uh, heal faster than normal…”

Wade nodded, “Gathered that much…”

“I also am a little stronger than, uh, average.”

Wade, again, nodded slowly. He leveled with Peter, “Makes sense, as to how you were able to hold me back…”

“I’m sorry… for lying.”

He shrugs, “Can’t lie if we didn’t really ask, right?”

Peter smiles sheepishly, “Guess not…” He glances back at the half packed bag, “Going somewhere?”

Wade smiles sweet, but sad, “Why’d you have to ask? Now I’m gonna have to lie.”

So, he wasn’t packing for the morning. He was going to disobey direct orders. He was going to go after Logan. And Peter had to go with him. For a few reasons. One, Logan and Wade were the only two people he _really_ knew… And trusted. Two, Logan being taken was partially his fault and he wanted to help. The only guilt that tugged at his mind was the mutant kids… But the team was going to take care of that, right? Peter holds Wade’s gaze, even as he tries to look away. “I want to come.”

He looks surprised, “Why?”

“Because…  I want to help. And it was my fault.”

Wade shakes his head, “It’s not your fault…”

“Even so, I want to help.”

“That’s great, and all, but you’re…” He gestures to the bed, the bandage wrapped around his entire upper torso, and the IV.

That isn’t going to stop him. Peter’s broken ribs before and fought Electro. Peter has dislocated his shoulder from falling off a roof, and breaking his fall with a web last minute. He’s popped that same shoulder back in with just the help of Ned. He’s never been shot, but that sure as hell isn’t going to stop him now. He tenses, and reaches for the IV, yanking it out before Wade can protest. Yeah, that _fucking_ hurt, like a lot, a lot… But it doesn’t matter. “I’m going.”

Wade stares, like he can’t believe Peter just really did that. “You’re tough, I’ll give you that… Okay. Okay…” He stands and begins packing again. Throwing his belongings in a duffel bag, and Peter’s (or rather Peter’s few borrowed belongings) in another.

Peter’s sat up, shirt back on, legs swung over the side of the bed when there is knock on the door. They both freeze. Wade presses his hand to his lips, before going to answer the door. Peter’s relieved to hear it is just John Wraith.

“Packing already, Wade?” He strolls into the room, sending Peter a small smile which he returns. He tries not to fidget. Fidgeting is suspicious. “Glad to see you’re okay Peter.”

“Thank you.”

Wade follows in behind him, looking uncomfortable, “Yeah, well, we move first thing tomorrow. Best to be prepared.”

“Yeah, prepared…” John looks critically at the both of them. They fidget. And he waits. He sighs and reaches into his pocket to pull out a cellphone. He tosses it to Wade.

“What’s this?” He turns the flip phone in his hands. It is an older model, disposable.

“Fox’s blessing. To find Logan.”

Disbelief. Both Peter and Wade are frozen with it. So much so that John rolls his eyes, “Hurry up and finish packing, will you? So, I can get you two out of here.”

Wade jumps into action, pocketing the phone, and throwing the last of the supplies into their bags.

\---

 _September 30th 2018, Sunday - 10:35am  
_ POV Wade

“Talk…” Hines eyes Wade closely, “For some reason I doubt that.”

(Smart.)

[would prefer to just kill her]

“Yeah, just a fun chat, how you’ve been? Still styling the same outdated bowl cut, so eightiesbut, like, not in a good way.”

“At least I still have hair-”

[ouch _burn_ ]

(Apply ointment to burn.]

“-Just cut to the chase.”

He pouts, no fun. He set this whole thing up just to have fun. No fair. “Alright, what are you doing with the ex-convicts? And where are you sending them?”

Wrong question, it would seem. Because then Carol is charging him. He doesn’t react as fast as he should… But he also hadn’t been expecting it. She was a doctor, a petite lady, not much of a threat. Or at least she wasn’t. Until now.

(Maybe ease up on the chimichangas.)

“How dare you call us _fat_ ,” he gasps as a knife is thrust into his heart. Yeah, _fuck_ , if that one didn’t hurt. He applies pressure to his chest, unable to move, however, as shockwaves of pain throb through his whole being. Yup, that is what it feels like to have a major organ fucking sliced through. Blood seeps in warm in his chest, out and onto this suit. _Just had this washed_.

[such a shame]

Carol flees for the door. Yanking it open, only to be confronted by an equally terrifying view.

“Stand down, Dr. Hines,” Iron-man says in the commanding voice.

Which, really, would have done more for Wade, if he wasn’t currently yanking a knife out of his fucking heart. He still enjoyed it, however, as she stumbled back into the apartment, shocked. He lifted his stumb, his hand having begun its regeneration, and waved.

“Oops, did I forget to mention Iron-daddy and I were bffs now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to my fellow Star War fans, we can't be stopped
> 
> Sorry this took a while. Work is like hell, as it is, when you work in retail around this time of the year. But we march on friends!
> 
> Thank you for the love on this fic, can't say it enough, it is greatly appreciated. I'm thankful for y'all! (:  
> I hope you all have a good holiday/Thanksgiving if you celebrate it. And I will see you in the next update!


	14. The boys are back in town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Boys Are Back In Town - Thin Lizzy
> 
> I mean... there was not a more suitable song... Given my absence. The boys are back in town for this chapter. Enjoy.

_August 4th 2011, Thursday - 6:15pm_  
POV Peter

Being teleported wasn’t something Peter wanted to do again. John had warned him it wouldn’t feel good, and he was right. It felt like all the atoms that made him, him, was torn apart and reassembled. And he woke up, feeling spaced the fuck out, on a cold, wet street.

“Thanks-” Wade breathed, clutching the bags, catching his breath first.

Peter felt his shoulder throb, fearful the stitches were torn, he applied pressure. The pain helped clear his head, however, and he gathered they were only a few paces away from the hotel. But it was enough.

John forced a smile, sweat beading his forehead, “No problem… Last I heard, Logan was being taken to their top laboratory in Canada.”

Wade nodded, and John gave them one last look before vanishing again. Peter started after the space he had once occupied. “Is… he okay?”

Wade looks at him, worrying frown at the way Peter is clutching his shoulder. However, he doesn’t address it. “His abilities let him teleport… But teleporting objects, or people, takes extra. It is dangerous to do one person, let alone two.”

Everything came with limitations. Peter had learned that the hard way, several times over. Heightened senses, powers, whatever - they were still people. And the fact that they were risking it for them… Despite what they were,  _ killers _ , Peter could see the similarities between him and his friends. They’d do anything for each other. He looks over to Wade.

“So, what is the plan?” They had to go to… Canada? It seemed like the strangest place for evil scientists to hide or have their ‘best’ lab. Canada was… pure? Or so he thought it was. It was supposed to be full of, mostly, polite people?

Wade paces down the street, until he comes to an older convertible. He drops his duffel bag, and begins rummaging through it. He pulls out a sturdy wire, “Road trip, baby.”

Peter ran over, or as quickly as his aching shoulder would allow, “ _ Stealing _ a car?”

“Um,  _ yes?  _ Unless you’d prefer to walk?” Wade shrugged, and began to feed the wire in between the glass of the driver side window.

“ _ No _ , of course not, I mean, this isn’t necessary, we can rent or.. Take the bus.”

Wade bites his lip and wiggles the wire around, pressing his body into the door to get a better angle. “Take the bus…  _  really? _ ” He twists the wire, “No bueno. Cool it kid, just keep watch, will ya’?”

Peter really does want to protest the point, but his shoulder  _ definitely _ has opened up again. And the pain is making him see stars. So, he stands and keeps watch. He waits until Wade makes a triumphant noise, “Still got it baby!”

Peter pointedly  _ doesn’t _ ask where he learned that skill, but heads for the passenger's side as Wade throws the bags in the back. He buckles up because given Deadpool’s disposition, and lack of attention, Peter doesn’t know if he trusts Wade Wilson to be a safe driver.

The car hums to life, and Wade pops up from under the dash. “First thing is first,” he turns the dial on the radio, until a soft rock fills the car and he nods appreciatively.

The car jolts, and they zip off down the street. Street lights blur before Peter’s eyes to the sound of  _ The Boys are Back in Town _ by Thin Lizzy. His healing factor must be kicking in, again, because he is getting that familiar pass-out-for-a-day feeling. “Canada, though?” he murmurs against the cool glass his head rests on.

Wade hums the tune, but nods. “Yeah, going home I guess… I’m from Canada.”

Peter laughs. Because that explains and ruins everything all in the same moment.

 

\---

_September 30th 2018, Sunday - 10:38am  
_ POV Wade

[you’re so enjoying this too much]

(We really should kill her. After we get the information at least.)

[thank you!]

Wade has to agree with the boxes sentiment. He  _ is _ enjoying the holy hell out of this. Watching Carol Hines and that stupid bowl cut, stumble back inside, hands raised in a pacifying surrender.

Iron-man’s faceplate slides back, and in steps Tony Stark. He has that definite, superhero, business face on… And Wade maybe swoons a little bit, just a little bit. He closes the door behind him. “We just want to ask you a few questions, Dr. Hines. About the inmates you’ve counseled.”

Carol’s face is hard, but she still shows interest in the wound that closes in Wade’s chest before their eyes. “What about them?”

[cut to the chase-]

(We never said we were patient. Not when Spidey is in danger.)

“Where are you taking them, what experiments are you doing on them? I thought you-” Wade thought that project had died a long time ago. Some unrealistic part of him just assumed Hines had disappeared into whatever hell-hole she had come from with it… But, obviously, that wasn’t true.

“-Deadpool-” Tony interrupts, careful and steady.

Right, calm. He had to be remain calm. He couldn’t give her an opportunity to get under his skin or escape. He had to reel it in. He breathes.

“We know that you’ve hand picked inmates from the prison you’ve counseled for experiments. What we want to know is why, and where are you keeping them.”

Carol seems ready to deny it again, but she thinks better. She sighs. “Our experiments are for the greater good, you must understand… Mr. Stark, please, as a scientist… Finding out what triggers a mutation, and controlling it, we could cure so many diseases.”

(Keep calm.)

[yah, like developing a cure for cancer, how ironic is that]

Last he saw their team, they were holding a bunch of mutant kids captive. Last he heard they hated them. Last he…

(KEEP. CALM.)

[for fucksake…  _ kill her _ ]

“Bullshit, cure diseases with mutations? What do you think caused this?” He gestures to his gruesome visage. Not to mention the insanity.

Hines shakes her head, “A mere side effect, we could do better, given an understanding of what caused it we could even cure-”

No, no, no no, stop right there. There was  _ no  _ cure. He tried this before. He can’t hope for it. Doesn’t need it. “-Last I knew you all hated mutants and just wanted to use them as your personal weapons.”

Hines shakes her head, “That is… not true.”

(Can’t convince us otherwise.)

[not listening to this bullshit, shot her]

He frowns, but Stark interrupts him before he can say anything. Smart move. “Regardless of your intentions, Hines, clearly many would disagree… If you have to resort to kidnapping and holding people against their wills in order to achieve it.”

“Casualties are bound to happen, in this sort of experiment, so the government feels uncomfortable with the risks. But the end justifies the means, besides who better to experiment on than those who are already lost to society? Nobody cares for them. It is their redemption, their purpose, to help their fellow man.”

Wade’s jaw is sufficiently dropped. “You’re  _ crazy _ .”

Hines turns from desperate to angry in seconds. She lunges at Wade, hands grasping his neck, squeezing with surprising strength. It is an ill attempt to kill him because he can’t die. But he lets it happen. He closes his eyes, and wills it to work… But then the pressure is off, and Carol collapses in a heap on the floor. Stark stunned her.

Wade clears his throat, and pulls his mask back on because he is suddenly feeling very exposed. He knows Stark knows what he looks like… But it helps. He can breathe again. He looks at Stark’s frowning face, far too exhausted looking for a larger than life superhero…

[you’re turning too soft]

“Thanks,” Stark looks up at him and gives him this nod. A nod of welcome. A nod of acknowledgement. Like Wade is a normal human being worthy of acknowledgement and not just disgust. “Daddy…”

(Moment - officially - ruined.)

Stark groans, and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Don’t mention it, Wilson. Ever. To anyone. And stop calling me  _ that _ for god sake... _ Pl _ ease.”

Wade giggles, before turning his attention back to the current issue. One unconscious batshit crazy doctor who was their only connection to finding out what happened to Spidey. “Looks like this is going to be harder than we thought.”

\---  
  
_August 5th 2011, Friday - 12:59am_  
POV Peter

Peter woke up to the sound of a car door slamming. His head hurt, and he definitely had a kink in his neck, but his shoulder was much better. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, and looked about. They were stopped at a gas station. It looked like they had left the city, at the very least, as there was a lot less lights around them. Besides the neon ones of the gas station, that was. He saw Wade Wilson exit the gas station, wearing a newly purchased baseball cap (with the Russian flag on it), destroying a bag of chips. And all Peter can think is  _ this is my life now. _

Wade opens the door, with a cheeky smile, “Morning sleeping beauty.”

Peter wants to be grumpy, given he had just woken up, but Wade’s good mood was infectious it would seem. He gives a small smile, “Nice hat.”

Wade grins, adjusting the rim, “Thanks. Are you hungry I got us snacks?”

On cue, Peter’s stomach awakens like something ravenous. He had a fast metabolism because of his abilities, and he can’t even remember the last time he ate. He snatched the bag Wade passed him, and began ripping into the salty treats. He couldn’t read Russian, so he wasn’t sure what flavor they were,  but they tasted salty and spicy.

“So… I’ll take that as a yes?”

Peter laughed, and took the bottle of water Wade offered, chugging it down. Once he finished the bottle, he feels much better. He looks over at Wade who has rolled down the window, and has a cigarette hanging from his lips. Peter watches as he strikes a match, sinking feeling in his stomach. He remembers what he read in his file. Cancer.

“Do you mind?” Wade asks, and Peter shrugs because he feels rude either way. He lights it, and takes a heavy drag. He at least has the courtesy to aim the smoke outside, as he pulls out of the gas station and back on the road.

Peter picks at his nail bed, a nasty habit that Aunt May  _ hated _ and tried to break him of several times. He wishes he could tell Wade, that he shouldn’t smoke. That he should go to the doctors for regular check ups. That in a few, short years his life would be turned upside down. But how much could he really say? He didn’t know how much he could affect the future, if he could even get back to it. He had no reference for time travel, except for  _ Back the Future _ and Marty Mcfly shouldn’t be interfering in the past.

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

Wade takes one more drag, and crushes the bud in the ashtray, “Now you’re starting to sound like Logan.”

Peter crosses his arms, “It is bad for you.”

Wade grins, “So I’ve been told. Now that I got the both of you on my back about it, I guess I will have to quit.”

Peter scowls, but takes it for now. He looks back at the long, dark road. And silence falls in the car once more. But Peter’s curiosity isn’t sated. He wonders about Wade’s relationship with Logan, the Wolverine. He hasn’t ever really seen them ‘hang out’ in the future. He never really knew they were that close… But, to be fair, he didn’t know Deadpool that well. And he was kind of too intimidated by the Wolverine to really talk to him.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t know how. “So… why are you…” Risking it all to save someone who you aren’t even close with in the future? Surely, Stryker would be furious and could very likely kill them if he found them. He had already risked it all to save Peter…

Wade doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He shrugs. “Because…. Ohana, ohana means family and -”

“-Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” Peter continues because  _ of course _ Wade Wilson would be quoting Disney movies to him. He rolls his eyes, turning to look out his window, he was expecting some kind of serious response.

There is silence again. And then Wade surprises him by continuing. “Logan is family and he’d to the same for me… Thank you, for, uh, you know, coming with me. It means a lot.”

Peter doesn’t know how to respond because he feels like he just heard something he shouldn’t have. Too personal. He feels his cheeks warm, and when he throws Wade a glance, he  _ swears _ his ears are pink too. He clears his throat, “Yeah, of course…”

And warmth descends on the car’s cab, until Peter turns back to the radio for some relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a minute. How's things? Hope your holiday was good and is good in the upcoming weeks. It'll be a new year soon too! Wow.  
> I miss writing the Gang but they'll be in next chapter hopefully. And also brief ROAD TRIP because it is canon that Spideypool is about roadtrips. So here we are.
> 
> Thank you all for being patient with me. Much love.


	15. Shut up and drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shut Up and Drive - Rihanna
> 
> SEVERAL THINGS TO CELEBRATE
> 
> 1\. Spider-verse is only 7 days away - one week! And then we get Miles Morales goodness. I'm so ready. I'm going to cry.  
> 2\. I've passed page 100 on the doc where I'm writing this! I'm like in awe, this is the most I've ever written for one thing. I have trouble focusing lol. I'm so excited.  
> 3\. We are almost at 400 kudos that is INSANE. Like my mind is completely blow, holy shit. Thank you guys so so much for your support. It keeps me writing (not gonna lie). And your lovely comments. You all are so lovely. Thank you, thank you for your continued support.  
> 4\. END GAME TRAILER HOW COULD I FORGET GUYS SOBBING
> 
> Anyway - I hope you enjoy this chapter. It is fluffy and light. But it won't last much longer...

_October 1st 2018, Monday - 12:30pm_ _  
_ POV Miles

 _THE GOONIES GUCCI GANG - @MercwithaMouth @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales  
_ _12:30pm_

_@MercwithaMouth: i bring news_

_@ChairguyLeeds: good or bad, could rlly use some good_

 

 _THE OGs - @ChairguyLeeds @ MJWatson @MilesandMorales  
_ _12:33pm_

_@ChairguyLeeds: being srs guys - Aunt May is freaking out_

_@ChairguyLeeds: she keeps calling me askin if there is some way to call/skype peter_

_@ChairguyLeeds: there is only so many lies i can make_

_@ChairguyLeeds: and i feel rlly guilty about it_

_@MJWatson: Peter wouldn’t want her to worry. But I agree we need to tell her sometime, if nothing turns up soon_

Miles doesn’t know what to type back. He chews aimlessly on the packet of pretzels he bought from the vending machine for lunch.  He wasn’t hungry. He also hated lunch. He never knew where to sit, and rather than shamefully sit by himself at this prep school, he hid in the library and ate between the stacks. Light snacks were allowed, full meals not so much. He missed his old school, he eating lunch as fast as possible so he and his friends could go play ball outside after.

But even when he was home, he didn’t have time. He had the Oscorp internship now too. So, he lost touch with his friends. And even reaching out, just seemed… Hard. Like if they hung out, they would be talking about stuff that didn’t affect him anymore. Complaining about tests and teachers he didn’t know. Which made him feel that much lonelier, torn between two worlds, not belonging in either…

At least there was Peter - they _would_ find him. And now, there was MJ and Ned, whom he texted frequently. He found they had the same sense of humor as he did… And for once he didn’t feel like he was living a lie.

 _THE GOONIES GUCCI GANG - @MercwithaMouth @ChairguyLeeds @MilesandMorales @MJWatson  
_ _12:40pm_

@MercwithaMouth: good news first then, we found dr hines

@MercwithaMouth: tony has her under his custody and she is finally talking

@MJWatson: But

@MercwithaMouth: but nothing she is saying is making sense

@MilesandMorales: that is great news! What do u mean??

@MercwithaMouth: like she batshit crazy

@MercwithaMouth: and that is ME sayin it

@ChairguyLeeds: wat kind of crazy

@MercwithaMouth: i mean nothing she says makes sense. She keeps going on bout time travel some srs doctor who shit

@MJWatson: Ned don’t start on Doctor Who please

@ChairguyLeeds: but

@MilesandMorales: time travel? What kind?

@MercwithaMouth: some guy trying to go to back in the past blah blah nonsense

@ChairguyLeeds: time travel isn’t entirely out of the question tho, i think dr banner wrote an article about it a few yrs ago

@MJWatson: Ned…

@MercwithaMouth: well something to think about i guess, we will try to find out what is actually going on or finding this guy in the meantime

@MilesandMorales: Deadpool thank you

Miles doesn’t have time to think about much else because the bell rings. He shoves his laptop and books back into his backpack and heads out of his little corner in the library. He nods to the librarian, a fairly new hire, young and surprisingly understanding of Miles desire to hide.

Time travel… Interesting.

\---  
  
_August 5th 2011, Friday - 4:59am  
_ POV Peter

They had to pull over for a few hours, so Wade could get some rest that didn’t require them driving off the road into a ditch… Which definitely didn’t almost happen, _twice_ . He seemed determined to get to Canada in one day. And after some intense convincing (bickering), that it just wasn’t physically possibly in any way, they pulled over. Wade had only slept for about two hours, passing out almost as soon as he did, but Peter would take it. He _had_ offered to drive, but Wade had grumpily mumbled something about not wanting to die before he got to Canada. Ungrateful.

They were on the road again. Wade was wiping sleep from his eyes, and the sky was finally becoming lighter with news that the sun would soon be rising. Peter felt groggy. The car’s air was stale with the smell of chips and smoke. His stomach was queasy with just the reminisce of junk food and soda. He rolled down the window, cool and fresh air wafed around the cab like a blessing. It felt good on his grimey face. He longed for a warm shower, even a toothbrush at this point. But he didn’t dare ask Wade to stop again, not yet.

There is a chuckle, and he looks back, to see Wade rolling down his own window and lighting a cigarette. “What?”

Wade grins around his cigarette, “You look like a dog, sticking your head out the window.”

Peter pouts, but turns to look back out the window. “Do not…” The cigarette smoke mixing with fresh night air, mixing with a lack of sleep, makes his head buzz. He leans back after a few minutes, rolling up the window again.

Wade finishes his cigarette, lets the air clear, before rolling up his window again. “How is your shoulder doing?”

Speaking of his shoulder, the dressing was beginning to itch. It probably was the dried blood. But otherwise, Peter was pretty sure it was healed. The fact he was able to crash for most of the ride, definitely helped his healing factor. He really wants to get the dressing off, it itches, and it will get worse when he starts sweating once the sun is up again. He unbuckles, ignoring the confused look Wade casts him, and he tugs off his shirt.

“Woah, I was just asking how it was doing, I didn’t ask you to strip.”

“Shut up,” Peter shoots him a glare, which is not really effective with him being shirtless, his hair a likely disaster. He pulls at the gauze wrap first, tearing it carefully away from where it was wrapped against his shoulder. It was marked crimson, which told Peter that he definitely did open some of the wound when they had teleported.

Wade made a hissing noise at the sight, trying to focus on both the road, and what was currently going on in his peripheral. “Are you sure you should be doing that?”

“It is healed,” Peter murmurs, tossing the dressing down to the bottom of the car. There is just a sterile pad taped over the wound. It is soaked too. He peels it back slowly, Wade not even really concentrating on the road as he watches. The skin, while tender from the coverings, was healed. There was certainly going to be a scar. Peter touched the skin, an indented circular patch…  

Wade whistles, turning his attention back to the road, “Amazing.”

Peter nods slowly, “Yeah, though it did scar.” It probably wouldn’t have, if he didn’t tear it back open so soon. He wouldn’t care, but he doesn’t know how he is going to explain that one to Aunt May… He frowns, trying not think about how worried she must be right now, and begins to pull his shirt back on.

“S’okay, scars are sexy, chicks dig them.”

Peter is _not_ blushing. He pulls the shirt over his head. He knows that Wade is playing a game, he won’t give him the satisfaction. He buckles back up, turning to look at Wade’s suggestive eyebrow wiggle. “Yeah? Do you have any?”

“Yeah one on my left ass cheek.”

Peter laughs, “Yeah, no, I mean… I _have_ to know why now. But I mean, uh, a girlfriend?”

Wade actually blushes. Peter can tell, the sun has fully risen now, and there is no mistaking the pink flush. Or the way he adjusts his baseball cap. “Uh, how do I say this? I guess it is better to rip off the bandaid? Kind of like you just did, in a totally cool way, I might add, like damn wasn’t expecting that-”

“Wade-” Peter interrupts because he is rambling. Something he does when he gets nervous. Something distinctly Deadpool, that it makes him smile, fondly. “You don’t have to answer.”

Wade nods, jaw working, as he stares forward. They drive in silence for a few minutes, Peter lets Wade think. “I am not straight? I mean, I’ve been with women. And I have been with men. I love _people_ \- is what I’m trying to say here… I, uh.”

Peter nods, “That is cool.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m bi.”

It takes a second, but when Wade’s brain registers it, Peter can see it on his face. It had taken Peter a moment to understand it himself… But he had supportive friends. He shares a dopey smile with Wade Wilson.

“But you never explained the scar…” Peter ponders.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask, it actually happened with my first girlfriend she had a-”

“-Actually I take it back, I don’t want to know.”

“But it is a fun story, she had-”

“-Wade.”

“-What?”

“Shut up and drive.”

“Rihanna, a classic.”

Peter laughed, pulling his legs up to the seat. He curled in to himself. He felt warm and tired. He watched Wade concentrate on the road, humming _Shut up and Drive_ under his breath as he went. A lazy grin on his lips, blond stubble on his cheeks. Peter nodded off again.

\---

 _October 1st 2018, Monday - 2:45pm_ _  
_ POV Wade

“You look like shit.”

Tony Stark glowers at him, with circles so deep he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Wade honestly thought if he blew too hard, _now that came out wrong sounding_ , he would fall over.

(You’re concerned)

[are we going to just ignore that entire statement referencing a blowj-]

(-don’t get too attached he’ll let you down)

[no? ok cool, author knows what they did]

(Or worse. You’ll let him down.)

“I mean it, I’ve seen a corpse with more life than you.”

“Shut up Wilson.” Only it it has none of that familiar bite. No spice. It was just tired. Sign number uno that Tony Stark was burnt out.

Wade crosses his arms, “Get some sleep Iron-ass. Seriously. You’re no use to Spidey dead. This isn’t going to help him. Hines isn’t going anywhere. You got security, and you got me.”

(We will never let her escape)

[will kill her before she steps foot outside]

(Don’t say that out loud, please)

Tony Stark just stares at him, currently having an inner debate as to whether or not sleep was worth trusting Deadpool. But exhaustion gets to the best of us because he finally nods. “Alright… Just for a few hours... Friday, lock down, nobody comes in or out without permission.”

\---

 _October 1st 2018, Monday - 3:33pm  
_ POV Miles

 _THE OGs - @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales  
_ _5:33pm_

@MilesandMorales: so i went to visit my uncle to ask if he knew anything more

@MJWatson: How is he? What did he say?

@ChairguyLeeds: is he ok?

@MilesandMorales: he is much better thks, but dr is still identifying the drug he was injected with doesn’t wanna release him until sure he is ok

@MJWatson: Makes sense. So make any headway?

@MilesandMorales: yeah he says they wanted wanted to stress test him, like a heart pacer test but more intense?

@ChairguyLeeds: force mutation, adapt or die, read about that yrs ago somewhere

@MilesandMorales: yeah it’s sick.. But here is the funny part

@MJWatson: Do tell

@MilesandMorales: just for curiosity sake i asked about time travel and he got kind of blank, and said yeah, he heard something about that several times in the lab

@ChairguyLeeds: OMGGGG TIME TRAVEL GUYS IT IS REAL

@MJWatson: No.

@MilesandMorales: they maybe telling the truth. Need to do more digging

@ChairguyLeeds: TIEM TRAVELL

@MJWatson: I agree, before we bring this up again, we should do some research.

@ChairguyLeeds: I HAVE BOOKS

@MilesandMorales: Ned is good place to start, we should meet

@ChairguyLeeds: after school tmrrw?

@MJWatson: Works for me. Miles?

@MilesandMorales: yeah that works… oh there is something else.

@MJWatson: ?

@MilesandMorales: -Sends Picture- _Picture details a hand drawing, made with crayon, depicting Iron-man. Written hastily on the bottom is ‘DO NOT DISTURB IRON-BEAUTY IF IT IS NOT AN ABSOLUTE EMERGENCY HE IS FINALLY SLEEPING SHHHH’_

 _@MilesandMorales:_ they are literally posted all over the tower

@ChairguyLeeds: LOLOLOLOLOL

@MJWatson: lmao


	16. I'll stand by you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song:
> 
> I'll Stand by You - Pretenders, Bob Clearmountain

_ October 1st 2018, Monday - 8:55pm  
_ POV Wade

Wade kept watch over Hines as promised, for several hours. Which, given his un-diagnosed ADHD, was a feint on its own. But, like always, he got bored. Even sketching out a grumpy looking Iron-man and posting it around the tower couldn’t keep him calm. He was antsy.

He wanted answers, but the blank stare that Carol Hines had on was unwavering and  _ unnerving _ . Even as Wade cussed her out, most creatively he might add, she did not break. It was like after her mental break, trying to choke Wade out in one last ditch effort to escape, she was quite literally broken. There was nothing to indicate anything was going on upstairs, you know…

So, he was bored. That is why he crept up into Tony Stark’s personal quarters. Just to snap a quick picture of his drooling face.

[finally moving up in the world]

(Blackmailing a billionaire isn’t such a bad idea)

Blackmail? Wasn’t the worst idea. He wondered if Stark still had that pinched expression on his face even in sleep. He almost snickered. Only, the elevator doors slid open on a perfectly lit apartment. Tony Stark, much to his disappointment, very much awake. He was sat cross legged on the hard tiled floor opposed to the comfy couch behind him.

[what a hard ass]

(For a billionaire, he seems very adverse to being comfortable, I never did understand that-)

[the whole minimalistic thing? me neither. imagine being so rich you hate luxury]

But it wasn’t really all that, it was that Tony Stark didn’t believe he deserved comfort, whether it be the comfort of his own goddamn couch - or even sleep. It was a dangerous game. One, Wade understood well, also a can of worms he felt entirely unready to unpack.

He steeled a breath, and pushed on through the doors, as if he had been invited - been here before. He was sure that Stark’s AI would have stopped him from coming upstairs, had he truly been unwelcome. So, in a roundabout way, he  _ was _ invited.

Wade took in the apartment with an appreciative whistle, he had money - sure. Mercenary work did pay well, but it was nothing like this.

(Perhaps we are in the wrong business)

[blackmail]

He halts before Stark. Crosses his arms and  _ tsks. _

[like the mother hen you are]

“And  _ why  _ aren’t you sleeping, Iron-beauty?”

Tony finally looks up, and sets the tablet down like setting down the weight of the world. His body seems to slouch as soon as he does, and he sits rubbing his eyes. “Because… I can’t. I just  _ can’t _ . Not when Pe, uh, Spider-man is missing.” He breathed out a self deprecating laugh, words slurring, “It is  _ my _ fault. I shoulda listened to him. Shoulda believed him, paid more attention…” His hand fumbles blindly, knocking, ungracefully, into a glass filled with amber liquid.

[somebody has been drin-king~]

(Oh dear)

[quick - record this-]

Wade blocks out the voices. Because he definitely  _ isn’t _ prepared for this. Not he guilt that is deeply lodged in his own throat, at his own faults in Spider-man’s disappearance. Not the intense empathy he feels, for someone that he otherwise would cuss out. Tony Stark was so untouchable, and Iron-man was so good… To say that Wade fucking Wilson didn’t look up to the guy, would be a blatant  _ lie _ . But it was also hard to look up to someone that had such clear disdain for you. Hurt too much. So, he copes how he copes best, and he makes it fun of the Iron-man. That is why, Stark doesn’t have a right, no right at all, to look so utterly pathetic right now. 

Blearily blinking down at an empty glass,  “I’ve always said I wouldn’t be my father, but it would seem I’m just like him.”

The mask suddenly feels very tight, so he yanks it off in an abrupt motion. He looks at Stark, really looks. And Stark looks back at him, impassive, like his visage isn’t revolting. Not surprising there was a hideous monster under the mask, huh? Wade bites back the bitter thought. 

Instead he plops down on the floor and reaches for the goddamn half empty bottle of scotch. He pours a little into Stark’s glass, and then tilts the rest to his lips. Yes, his healing factor makes it hard for him to get properly wasted… But it still burns nice, and Wade Wilson always was one up for a challenge. Stark watches, says nothing, but raises his glass. They toast, and Wade chugs again.

They drink. And maybe the alcohol is stronger than the shit Weasel serves in his piece of shit bar… Because it loosens his tongue enough. “It is not your fault. It is mine.” Wade confesses, words slurring in his rush to get them out, “I was supposed to help Spidey investigate, and he had called me for back up. But I wasn’t there because…” Because he was an idiot who was sulking. Because he was insane. Because he was a killer.

Stark stares. Then he laughs, it is more of a wheeze, than a laugh, unhinged sounding. But it makes Wade laugh, unnerved as well. 

“We never... speak of this…” Stark murmurs, head lolling to the side as he promptly passes out. 

\---

_ October 2nd 2018, Tuesday - 2:34pm  
_ POV Miles

Most of Miles’s day went on in a haze. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the implications of time travel… What it could mean if it were true. As soon the bell rang, he ran back to his dorm to pack. 

“Sneaking out again?”

Miles shoots a glare at his roommate, an irritatingly smart, and entitled twelve year old that skipped several grades (and probably could skip more if they were being entirely honest). He was currently playing with an outdated model of  _ Gameboy Advance  _ while working on his tenth milky way, judging by the scattering of wrappers that was.

He pulls up his hood and shoulders his backpack, “Yeah, what’s it to you Cho?” 

Amadeus Cho shrugs, tossing a wrapper, irritatingly, in Miles’s direction. “Nothing, you’re just acting weird. Weirder than usual. It is distracting.”

“Whatever, man,” Miles mutters, and yanks the door open. Normally, Miles leaving campus wouldn’t be an issue. But after the past few weeks of missing curfew, he was currently on strict orders to remain on the school’s premise. He really should listen… He shudders to think what his father would say if he found out, but other things take priority. Like helping his friends. 

“Just get back before curfew this time.”

Miles turns, to see Amadeus roll over onto his side, facing away. If he weren’t so cold, he would have mistaken it for concern. He doesn’t let the door hit him on the way out.

\---

Miles has walked the streets his whole life. And he’s navigated more dodgy neighborhoods before just fine. Keep your head down, don’t make eye contact, and keep walking. Mind your own business. But always keep your wits about you. 

That is how he knew somebody was following him. It was a feeling on the back of his neck, and the sound of footsteps sharply behind him. He turned the corner and hastened his walk. From the corner of his eye he saw a man, in a black suit, push past a young couple that got between them. Not good, not good… He knew it was a possibility they’d be after him, but it was just a dark thought in his mind… No longer. He couldn’t risk getting caught. 

He broke out into a run. He ran across a intersection, cars honked at him, but he could feel the man still on his tail. He ran for all he was worth, pushing through the crowd for the first subway entrance he could find. He jumped over the bars, not having time to stop and swipe his metrocard, and ran for the blessed open doors of a train about to depart. It wasn’t until the train jolted, zipping away and leaving behind his confused follower, that he could breath. 

But it didn’t stop his heart from racing. He held onto the bar tightly. A group of dangerous people knew who he was, and they were after him. He was going in the completely wrong direction to meet up with Ned and MJ. And his family was potentially, unwittingly, in danger. The only comfort in the moment was being surrounded by strangers, the anonymity of it. For now he was safe. And he knew what they wanted.

\---

_ August 6th 2011, Friday - 7:50pm  
_ POV Peter

Peter was going stir crazy in the car. He could tell Wade was too. There was only so many times they could sing the few select English songs on the Russian radio, without going crazy. They talked some. But each time, Peter found himself cut short… Worried he might mention something that would indicate the future. For example, they may have gotten into a fairly intensive discussion about Lord of the Rings. Discussing the books and movies translations, and Peter may have almost went off on how the  _ Hobbit _ had suffered somewhat due to being stretched across three films… But was decidedly  _ not _ out yet. He had to bite his tongue.

So, after days of nonstop travel,  it appeared that Wade’s so called plan, brought them to the middle of nowhere. Or so it would seem, until a plane skillfully landed in a small clearing. Wade was grinning ear to ear, despite being sleep deprived and wearing a considerable amount of stubble at this point. Peter couldn’t help but smile too. Before this point, he had been convinced it was Wade’s intention to simply drive all the way to Canada, oceans be damned. He was relieved to be out of that stuffy cab, even despite his discomfort with flying. 

When the engines were cooling, a man stepped out, wearing an U.S. Air Force uniform. He was smartly dressed, a strong jaw, and a sturdy build. Wade ran out to hug him, “Ben, my brother from another mother!”

Ben shoved Wade away, but he had a small smile on, nonetheless, “Never say I didn’t do anything for you.” He nodded towards the plane, “No time to waste, right? Let’s get out of here.”

Peter, who couldn’t agree more with never seeing that car again, picked up the bags.

\---

“So, how do you two know each other?” Peter asks once they are thousands of feet in the air, steadily on their way to Canada. So close to home. It made him anxious, but it also made him homesick. If it was 2011, then that meant that Uncle Ben was… A futile thought. A  _ dangerous _ thought. He erased it from his mind.

Wade grinned from his seat in the cramped plane, he raised his voice, so that Ben would hear his answer from the cockpit, “Benjamin Grimm is the best goddamn pilot in the U.S. Air Force-”

“-And you’re an idiot-”

“We worked together, a few times, when I was still in the armed forces, before Stryker recruited me.” Wade leaned over the aisle, like he was telling Peter a big, juicy secret. “He tried to recruit Ben too, y’know.” 

Ben, as if he had this discussion several times before, yelled down from the cockpit, “Yeah, but I’m not batshit crazy enough to agree to that shit. I got people, can’t just go disappearing, no matter how important Stryker thinks it is - I can do a lot more good closer to the ground.”

Wade pouts, “It is only for a few years.”

“And who is saving your ass now?”

“Touche.”

Peter laughs, and Wade smiles as he settles back into his seat like a normal person. It is funny, how he can relate to Ben on some level… Being asked to join an elite group, like the Avengers - it was an honor. But it was also scary. To surrender your independence for a larger cause, one that was vastly out of your control… Yeah, maybe you had a say, but it wasn’t entirely your call either. And Peter didn’t feel ready to surrender that privilege, or take on that responsibility. 

“So, why did you join?” Peter asks, after a minute, curiosity getting the better of him.

Wade shrugs, “Nothing better to do, I guess?”

Peter cocks a brow, disbelieving, “Nothing better to do, than join a group of highly trained operatives on a top secret mission spanning several years? Seems a little extreme to me. Ever try crochet?” 

Wade laughs, “Okay, you got me there. Crochet was definitely a better choice.” He shifts, trying to get comfortable in the stiff chairs. But even they couldn’t keep his heavy eyes open, as they drifted closed, smile still on his face. “It was just… the next step. After special forces. I didn’t know what else to do… Killing is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

Peter stiffens. He remembers those things in Wade Wilson’s file. He remembers the look in his eyes when he raised his katanas. And he just said it himself… The indisputable fact, that Wade Wilson was a killer. 

But Peter felt safe with him. He came to, and Wade’s face and unwavering humor was a  _ comfort _ . Deadpool threw himself over him, to protect Spider-man. His earnestness to do good, to earn the approval of Spider-man was… Heartwarming. Yes, he might have a twisted, destructive sense of justice, but Wade Wilson wasn’t just a killer. Despite what the file might say, what Tony Stark and the Avengers might think, what Wade Wilson himself might believe…

“No…” Peter thinks out loud, to a snoring Wade, before turning over on his side to get some of his own shut eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it HAS been a minute guys.  
> I haven't given up, promise. you see, I got Red Dead Redemption 2 for Christmas and well... That stole my soul. Cowboys, guys, cowboys.  
> I hope you've had a great holiday - and are so far having a good new year!  
> Thank you for being patient with me. Also, for leaving the most lovely and supportive messages. I'm so happy to write this update for you guys. Thank you so much for your support <3
> 
> I take immense pleasure in just taking people from the Marvel Universe and inserting them where ever I like. Guess who Ben is... It IS CLOMberiNG time... I'm not sorry. Also if you know who Miles's room mate is I applaud you. Also, I apologize for butchering their likeness for my own uses. 
> 
> Lastly - Tony Stark and Wade Wilson really do have a lot of feelings of guilt. For somewhat different reasons. They also both have very bad coping mechanisms. So, they understand that about each other. At the very least, they have that. And their love for Spider-man.


	17. Free fallin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - First scene happens before the last scene of chapter 16. Basically they should be swapped around - I added this scene on a little too late - I'll updated probably one day... But you can also consult the dates. I apologize for the confusion.
> 
> Song: Free Fallin' - John Mayer

_October 2nd 2018, Tuesday - 7:03am  
_ _POV Wade_

Wade let Tony Stark sleep. He didn’t dare move him, for fear that he would wake up and start drinking or working again. Rather, he spent some time wandering the apartment, chatting with Friday, looking for blackmail material. Friday was actually nice company. She didn’t pass judgement, or say anything as he chugged the rest the scotch - only to sober up a mere hour later. She also didn’t say anything as he rifled through Stark’s sock drawer for something worthwhile. Only to come back empty handed. He gave up after that, and ended up playing Space Invaders on a tablet for a few hours until he got restless.

That is how he ended up in kitchen. Baking a ridiculously large stack of pancakes. Because he was a pancake _master_. It was also one of the few things he could cook. Or had the attention span to cook. He was just finishing up the dishes when he heard a groan from the living room.

[sounds like the return of the living]

(Har har}

“You’re awfully chipper looking, for having finished that bottle of scotch.” Stark grumbles, as he stumbles into the kitchen. Looking a little worse for wear, but less like he was moments from collapse. He looks suspiciously at enormous stack of pancakes on the counter, but pours himself a pot of the coffee nonetheless.

“Yeah,” Wade laughs nervously, “Fast metabolism, kinda ruins the whole drinking myself into a stupor vibe...”

(This is way to domestic for me.)

[pretty soon he’s gonna be wearing a pink apron calling Stark-senpai]

 _Shut it._ He shakes his head. What a cruel, cruel world. After giving him a face as monstrous as this, and the constant voices, they also took away his ability to forget about it for more than thirty minutes. The last time he had been able to get _properly_ trashed, for a good month, was after _Peter_ . Oh, _oh._

[who is PETER]

(Sensing a dark, tragic backstory)

“None of your business…”

“What?” Stark looks up from his mug, tablet already in his hand.

(It _so_ is our business. We live in your head.)

[tell us or not we’ll find out eventually]

Wade gestures to his head, and Stark, having read his files, shrugs and returns to his tablet. _I could kiss him for not caring at all_. Wade heads for the balcony, suddenly needing some fresh air. Once outside, he yanks his mask off. It is early morning light, so the air is still crisp with autumn frost, but the sun is a soothing warmth. It is refreshing.

It calms his nerves. Must be nerves. He hasn’t thought about that name is years. It’s _red and warm, so much running through his fingertips like water… so quickly. Never seen so much of it before_. He stops it there. Yanks the mask back down.

There were people Carol Hines was working with. That, at least, was clear. There was no time to waste anymore. He had to find them. He swung a leg over the railing, cool air rushing past him as gravity takes him down, down…. And out.

\---

_Iron Daddy - Received: 7:35am ‘Do NOT stir up too much trouble once they hear we have taken in Carol Hines they will be even more careful. Do not give them more of a reason to disappear.’_

_Iron Daddy - Received: 7:36am ‘Also - TAKE. THE. ELEVATOR! We now have to explain to the press why somebody jumped off my balcony.’_

\---

 _August 6th 2011, Friday - 10:07pm (Canada Time Zone - 10hrs later)  
_ _POV Peter_

They reach Canada after a fairly long flight. Peter was able to sleep through some of it, but he woke up some time ago, thoughts spinning in his head. He wonders about the consequences of time travel… Were it truly a good idea for him to cling to Wade? Because as much as he wanted to help, he couldn’t deny he was holding onto the familiarity of him… Now would be a good time, returning to at least the same continent as home, to part ways. But what then? It wasn’t as if he could just go home…

Wade jerks awake, just as the wheels hit the runway. They were landing in a quiet base, military probably, from what Peter could tell. With a sigh he stretches, cracks his back and glances out the window. Wade hums “O Canada” under his breath, as he wipes sleep from his eyes, the plane turning slowly to an open warehouse.  “Welcome home,” Ben calls down from the cockpit just as he cuts the engines.

\---

They said goodbye to Ben, with much gratitude, and quickly parted ways. Ben had lent them an older car, it was on its last run, but Peter was just thankful that they were not stealing another one. Wade seemed content with the development too, humming as the radio was busted, windows rolled down as it was fairly warm out.

“Where to?” Peter asked, poking his head back into the car, hair surely a rats nest at this point.

Not that Wade’s blond hair was much better, but it was at least tamed underneath a cap still. He grinned at Peter, “Motel, somewhere quiet. Gotta look through the intel we got, see if there is anything else that can help us pinpoint exactly where in Canada this lab is.”

Peter nodded and rolled up his window, trying to push hair back to something presentable. “I can do that, if you like, I’m pretty good with computers.”

Wade reached over roughed his hair all out of place again, “See? I knew I brought you for a reason. My own Penelope Garcia.” Laughing.

Peter wants to say he can do more than the tech stuff. He can fight too. He possibly had a better advantage than Wade himself at this point. But he lets it pass, trying not to laugh himself, as he reaches over and snatches the cap off Wade’s head. Wade gasps and they fight over it for a minute, tugging it back and forth. Peter eventually yanks it sharply from Wade's grasp (possibly cheating by using some of his super strength) and slides it over his head with a grin.

Wade sulks. “Hmm, not really sure that suits you. You don’t really seem like a hat guy, k’know?”

Peter glares because it is obvious Wade is just picking on him now, smirk clear on his smug face. However, Peter grins slowly too, as he takes in the matted helmet of blond hair crowning Wade’s head. “Yeah? Not really sure that bowl cut suits you either, but, hey, I’m not judging.”

Wade laughs, blue eyes filled with mirth, as he faked offense, “It is at that awkward stage, I’m growing it out, Uma Thurman style.”

“Big fan? Couldn’t tell with the two katanas you march around with. All you are missing is that tight yellow jumpsuit.”

“Tight leather, isn’t that too constricting? Besides, yellow isn’t my color.”

Peter turns back toward the window and bites back a laugh because - _oh_ that red, leather - tight _very_ tight suit Deadpool wears.

“What? Yellow isn’t the most flattering color.”

Peter gives a knowing smile, “True, the leather may grow on you though.” There was absolutely no way he wasn’t going to tease Deadpool about this when he got back. Relentlessly.

\---

 _October 2nd 2018, Tuesday - 4:02pm  
_ _POV Miles_

The train had taken Miles in the completely opposite direction. He texted MJ and Ned to let them know that he would be late. However, he didn’t tell them why. That, he saved in person. Ned was visibly shaken. And yeah, Miles was too. Even MJ sat quietly for a few minutes, biting her lip as she thought.

“I’m sorry.” Sorry for putting them in danger. Sorry for putting Peter in danger… He had just wanted to find Uncle Aaron. At the time, he thought, no matter the cost to his own safety. It was selfish and naive. He knew that now.

“It is ok. We knew the risks when we learned about Peter,” MJ reassured him. And while it didn’t make him feel better, he also he felt like he could at least breathe again at Ned’s nod of agreement.

“Why are they still after you, if they got the data they wanted?” Ned prompted.

MJ nodded slowly, “Seems like more of a liability to be chasing you. They are purposely targeting people who, they believe, won’t be missed.”

Miles smiled slowly, “Uhh yeahh, about that… Yes, I gave them company confidential data. But Oscorp has two types of projects, the ones for the public and, uh, the not so public ones.”

“Oscorp has secret shady projects? Why am I not surprised.”

“Ned.”

Ned crossed his arms, “What? Is it really that surprising?”

MJ rolled her eyes, “Don’t bring your thing with Harry into this.” She turned back to Miles, “So you didn’t give them any of the secret research?”

He shook his head, “I didn’t. They wanted data specifically on one project, one that even I haven’t heard of - they called it Project X.”

MJ nods, brows furrowing, "Right, so they want this data, above all else?"

"Right."

"Then we have bait."

The three grin at each other across the table. A small victory. They had leverage finally.

"So, all we have to do is get the data."

"Well, it isn't that easy, it is heavily encrypted... And I'm pretty sure there is only a few select computers that have access."

"I get it," Ned said with a nod, "but access is another issue..."

"We need Harry," MJ said decidedly.

Ned groaned, "Really?"

"It is the easiest way. He has access to all Oscorp. We just need him to take us on a 'tour'," MJ made air quotes around tour with a wicked grin.

She couldn't mean- "Wait, Harry... You mean _Harry Osborn_?"

MJ nodded, Ned still shook his head, "Yeah, we are kind of friends, or at least he is friends with Peter."

See, Miles didn't know Harry Osborn well enough to really form a complete opinion on him. But he did have an opinion on his father - Norman Osborn. As much as Miles appreciated the internship on his resume, as much as it was a nice escape from prep school in some ways... He didn't like Norman Osborn. It was that sense, when you meet somebody, that something was wrong. That there was something going on behind the scenes that wasn't quite right. Not to be trusted. It was that kind of feeling. And Miles didn't know if it was fair to extend to Harry, especially if Peter was friends with him... 

"Does Harry, uh,  _know?"_  

Ned shakes his head, "No."

"Like I said, it is a tour. But Harry is our best and safest bet."

Miles searches Ned's expression, while it is dismay it is not distrust. So, slowly, the two nod and agree. It was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy April Fools!
> 
> I finally forced myself past my writers block to finish this chapter. I hoping next one will come smoothly. I'm kind of overwhelmed, truth be told, with what I want to write and not sure how or where to go. It is hard to explain - I'm sorry about the long wait guys! 
> 
> But thank you all for your continued support. And for still leaving me kudos, and comments I really appreciate it. It may take time, but I promise I will not give up on this story. It will completed. 
> 
> Much love.


	18. Talk me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Talk Me Down - Troye Sivan
> 
> I saw End Game. I shall say no more - no spoilers guys. But if you want to hear me talk about it @ milesandmorales.tumblr.com
> 
> This chapter warms me. More fluff is in the horizon soon. Soon. (:(:

_August 6th 2011, Friday - 11:57pm  
_ _POV Peter_

“Oh my god... I’m soooo tired!” Wade sobbed, face planting into one of the twin mattresses. Peter locked the door behind him, taking in the view of the small room. It was basic, but he had never been happier to see an actual bed. He threw one of the duffel bags on Wade’s back, who lets out a muffled, “UMPH,” but does not move.

He beelines for the bathroom, craving a shower above all else. “Dibs on the bathroom,” he cries, the door snapping shut behind him.

Despite the dull ache in his shoulder, Peter makes quick work of stripping out of his clothes and hopping in under the warm water. He scrubbed away the old scabbed blood on his shoulder, and the grime from his face. He smiles, remembering when he was just beginning to discover his powers, and he fell in a dumpster. He got home and Aunt May practically shoved him into the shower, ranting on how he absolutely reeked… He had accidentally ripped the shower curtain off, much to her dismay.

He reluctantly turned off the water.

\---

He came out dry and content in an oversized sweater and sweats that Wade had given him, only to find that he hadn’t moved. Duffel bag still perched on the small of his back, face mashed into the neat blanket, feet dangling off the side of the bed… Peter has to wonder how this is the same person who cut up people like fruit - and sighs.

He takes the duffel bag and drops it the floor. Peter then hops on the bed, grabs Wade’s arms (which of course he doesn’t wake up) and drags (using a little super strength) Wade up the bed. He lets go and his arms fall down to mattress like limp noodles. A little breathless, Peter shakes his head and scoots off the bed for his own. It isn’t long after he pulls up the blankets, that he too falls asleep.

\---

There is a knock on the door, “Peter? Are you ready? It’s time to go!”

He’s nervous. He doesn’t know why. He smooths down his tie. No biggie, just prom - nothing new. He breathes. “Coming!”

He opens the door and Aunt May smiles, “You look great, sweetie, did you remember the corsage?”

“Corsage? Cor _sage_ oh my god, I forgot the cor _sage_!” He runs to his room, Aunt May calls his name behind him. But there is no time, he grabs his web shooters, if he can just zip to the flower shop and back… He leaps out the window.

He makes it to prom. He is standing outside the school - but he is late.  Really late. It is already going on. He enters and finds Ned alone in the hallway. “Ned?”

Ned turns, frowning, “I thought you said you’d be my wingman Peter…”

He grabs his shoulder, “I’m sorry Ned! I had to get a corsage and then there was a robbery and -”

“-And the greater good is more important, I get it… I just wanted my _friend_ Peter for one night…”

“Ned I’m so, so sorry, please…”

MJ stops him. “Give him some space Peter, it is not easy, you know… Being friends with you. Constantly worrying...”

All is dark. He can’t move. He tries to breath but something is pushing on his ribs, making it hard for him to do anything but wheeze. He gasps, dust settling around him, panicking rising. He is being crushed. He tries to calm his breathing. He is Spider-man, he can do this… He pushes, steeling himself, lifting the rock.A hand rises from the rubble, grabbing his wrist. “Pete? You’re Spider-man?” Miles looks at him, eyes wide, betrayed, “You lied. I thought you said you’d help me. You’re supposed to help me.”

He falters and the rocks come crashing down again around him.

He screams.

\---

He _screams_.

“Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright…” Peter looks into blue eyes and breathes. None of it was real. This is the past. He is laying in a dingy hotel room, and pre-Deadpool Wade Wilson is sitting on the edge of his bed rubbing his back. He slumps back down into mattress.

“M’sorry.” He hasn’t had a nightmare like that in a while.

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Wade’s voice was rough with sleep, obviously having just been woken by Peter’s screaming, “or be embarrassed. If you remember, you’re not the only one who has night terrors.”

Peter risks a glance up, seeing a bemused smile on Wade’s face makes him smile weakly back. “I guess we’re even then.”

Wade yawns, “Guess so, scoot over.”

Peter scoots over, trying not to jump when Wade pulls back the covers and makes himself comfortable in the little twin bed.

“Got an extra pillow?”

Peter glared, currently forced to the very edge of the bed so he isn’t invading Wade’s space in _his_ bed. Wade looks at him, expectantly, so he pulls out his second pillow and smacks him in the smug face with it.

“Thank you!” Wade chimes, muffled by the pillow. He tucks it behind his head and settles. “I sleep better next to somebody, you don’t mind, do you?”

 _Yes_ , _yes I do mind._ Peter wants to say. _I mind you invading my space. I mind you looking at me with concern like that. I mind it a lot_. “No,” Peter grits.

Wade smiles and then flops over on his side, facing away from Peter. The bed shakes as he does, but at least it gives Peter a little more room. He scoots inward.

They lay there for a while. Peter on his back, Wade on his side. Peter’s mind swims with the dream. His thoughts circling back around to each of his family and friends. What has become of them? Were they okay? He knew they were not ones to sit passively, and that concerned him more. He hoped they weren’t doing something incredibly dangerous -- and stupid.

\---

 _October 5nd 2018, Friday - 3:02pm  
_ _POV Miles_

They were about to do something incredibly stupid. Hacking into Oscorp while under the pretense of taking a tour seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, however, it seemed like the dumbest idea ever. It was like inviting yourself over to somebody’s house and then stealing their stuff.

The second, most current, problem was that Harry Osborn already knew him. Or rather, he already worked at Oscorp - so it wouldn’t make much sense for him to desire a tour, would it? That was where MJ’s brilliant, or more annoying, plan for them to just happen upon Miles came to. He was currently hiding in the men’s room, waiting for the signal.

_Ned Leeds - Received: 3:06pm ‘about to pass research and development’_

That was it. He breathes. “You got this, Miles… You got this.” He pushed out of the stall. Moving quickly, but not too directly towards R&D. He spots them, but doesn’t make eye contact. The plan was to pretend not to notice them until-

“Miles!” MJ called.

He looks up, as if surprised, “MJ? Hey,” he pauses, shyly smiling at the group, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on a tour! My friend Harry is showing us around, Harry, Ned - this is Miles, we used to go to the same after school program.”

Harry Osborn was tall, muscular with thick, curly brown hair. A square jaw, brown eyes, and by all rights perfectly attractive and _intimidating_. He, however, gives Miles a warm smile, and offers his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you Miles.”

Miles shakes his hand, and tries to relax. MJ continues, “How have you been? We have to catch up, Harry could Miles join us on the tour?”

Miles doesn’t have to fake discomfort as Harry lets go of his hand, and nods earnestly to MJ’s request. He actually feels bad, lying to someone so seemingly nice. “I’m actually an intern here, I’ve toured before…” he says meekly as he shakes Ned’s hand.

“Well then, we can show you something that you haven’t seen before? Can we Harry?” MJ all but bats her eyelashes. And Miles is officially, properly terrified of her.

Harry Osborn, being a nice, slightly naive person, smiles mischievously and agrees. “Why not?”

\---

 _August 7th 2011, Saturday - 1:55am  
_ _POV Peter_

“Are you asleep?” Wade asks, after what must be twenty minutes.

Peter considers not responding, but it is obvious he is wide awake. He is exhausted, but he can’t sleep. He’s too on edge. If he were home, he’d suit up and go on patrol. Catch a few bad guys, swing around until he was on the edge of collapse. It wasn’t healthy, but it worked to distract him in times like this. He sighed, “No.”

“Me either, wanna talk?”

Peter smiles, it reminds him of sleep overs, Ned and him staying up all night talking about different Star Wars theories - the Jar Jar Binks sith one being a hot debate. “Sure.”

“Do you miss home? New York City?”

Peter thinks about the city, thinks about Delmar’s, long trips home on the subway, swinging past blinding and flashing lights. “Yeah, I miss it.”

“You’re from-?”

“-Queens.” Peter grins, knowing instantly what the question was, pride and longing swelling in his chest.

“Will you want to go back, when this is over?” A small part of Peter is glad that Wade isn’t trying to insist he leave again. That they are now a team, at least, until “this” was over. 

But - “I can’t.” Too dangerous, as he risked tangling his timelines. He had no idea what would happen, if that were the case. It was better to keep his distance, until he was more sure what he was dealing with.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t press _why_. Doesn’t even imply it. Peter appreciates that. He looks at the back of Wade’s head.

“What about you?”

Wade’s silent. And just as Peter is about to back track, thinking he said something wrong Wade sighs. “Don’t know, really. I’ve never missed a place,  y’know? Never really got that warm fuzzy feeling of ‘I belong here’, y’know? It is just the same - everywhere. I’m kind of envious, I wanna proudly say I’m from a place like Queens too.”

“Well then I, an official person of Queens, invite you to join us. When this is over, move to Queens and officially call yourself a native.”

Wade laughed. “Sounds fantastic, thank you.”

Peter grins, closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support guys - 570kudos I'm SCREAMING that is CRAZY. LiKE hOW. THANK YOU BYE.


	19. Wake me up before you go-go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!

_October 5nd 2018, Friday - 3:20pm  
_ _POV Miles_

On the surface level, Harry Osborn was the predictable rich, talented jock - golden boy, the apple of everyone’s eye. But nothing was ever really that simple. They toured a few more labs on the second floor, until they were led to a familiar off-limits corridor. Harry glanced down the empty hall, and waved them over to a door. “Technically, this part is off-limits, but,” he grins, “I learned to passcode a little while ago...” Harry turns and punches in a series of numbers, and the door clicks open.

MJ shots Ned with a triumphant look, that yes, her plan was far superior. She plays it impressed, grabbing onto Harry’s forearm (Ned rolls his eyes in the back), “This is really cool, but are you sure, I don’t want you to get in trouble either?”

Miles bounces on his toes, full of nervous energy. He wanted to know what was in that room, he had since he first started working here. And why exactly those people, possibly, wanted something in this room.

Harry pauses, and then shrugs, “It is okay, I trust you.”

Well, if _that_ didn’t make a guy feel like shit... The three of them nod, subdued, as Harry yanks the door open and ushers them in. The lab is enormous. A diversity of plant life hangs from the ceiling, vines and leaves draping down over tables. There was only two computers, but they were connected to a bigger piece of machinery across the room, power cords sprawled and hanging about the room in a similar fashion to the plants. It was like an ongoing war between nature and machine, it was fantastic.

“This is…”

“ _Awesome_ ,” Ned finishes beside him.

“Right?” Harry grinned as he usher them further in, toward a branch with other workstations.

It was in their inspection of a third room, where Ned was freaking out over a particularly intuitive robot, that MJ gave Miles the signal. “Harry? Could you show me where the restrooms are?”

Harry, who was trying (and somewhat failing) to answer Ned’s questions, jumped up. “Yeah, of course…”

Miles smiled, “It’s okay, I’ll wait here with Ned and make sure he doesn’t take the robot apart.”

Harry gave him an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before he and MJ left. He breathed, waiting a few minutes, before poking his head back out into the hallway. “Looks like they’re gone.”

Ned sighed, “If we only had the funds… Peter and I could build something _way_ cooler.”

Miles waved him over, “Yeah, sounds great… come _on_.”

They headed back into the main room. Ned instantly booted up one of the two computers. “How much time do you think we have?”

Miles set his backpack down on one of the tables, reaching in to pull out a flashdrive, he passes it over to Ned. “Not sure, however long it takes to go to the bathroom?”

Ned made an unimpressed noise, “Well, tell her to fake some diarrhea or something, this is going to take a minute I’m afraid…”

Miles pulled out his phone, pacing the room, “Will do…”

_MJ Watson - Sent: 3:49pm ‘eta? Ned says have diarrhea’_

_MJ Watson - Received: 3:50pm ‘First of all - gross. Two - you have 10 tops’_

“Ten minutes,” Miles calls, glancing back at Ned who was concentrating.

“Ten minutes… I’ve done worse…. Definitely done worse…” He typed frantically.

Miles, feeling unless, paced the room. Hoping to spot MJ and Harry on their way back. He stopped before a wall of tanks. It would appear that plants weren’t the only living things in the laboratory. There were rats, lizards, and even some bugs… He supposed it shouldn’t surprise him they were testing on animals, but it didn’t make him feel better about it either. He stopped before a tank, but it appeared to be empty. “Ned?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Still searching the tank for some kind of movement, he pulled out his phone. _MJ Watson - Received: 4:01pm ‘omw’_

He ran back over to the table, snatching his backpack up. “Ned- they’re on their way!”

\---  
  
_August 7th 2011, Saturday - 11:54am  
POV Peter _

By the time Peter woke up the next morning, the bed was empty and the shower was on. Thankfully, he didn’t have any more dreams that night. Mercifully, he also didn’t have to wake up with Deadpool, or Wade, right in his face. That would have been… Awkward. The off-tune singing in the next room, rises into high pitched screeches, and Peter yanks the pillow over his head and groans.

By how bright it is in the room, it has to be later in the day. But he still had no motivation to get up. The song has now changed. The pillow was useless. Peter chucked it at the bathroom door, but to no avail his irritation was neither heard or noted. And he lost his pillow. He sat up, hair likely a mess, and glanced at the bedside clock. It was about noon. He was parched.  

Crawling out of bed, he searched the mini fridge for a water bottle - which he crushed in a matter of minutes. He tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin, and spotted the laptop propped open at the small desk in their room. He sat down at the soft, leather desk chair and tapped the screen alive. Wade didn’t have a laptop, as far as Peter knew, so where he got this one was a bit of a mystery. The desktop was some anime girl - who, Peter didn’t know. The shower turned off.

It was, without a doubt, _not_ Wade’s laptop. So, that begged the question whose laptop was it, and how did Wade come in the possession of it. Peter crossed his arms - waiting. He hears the bathroom door swing open, and swivels in his chair - lecture on the tip of his tongue and… And stops. Wade steps out with nothing but a small, too small towel- too much damn thigh, wrapped around his waist. _Jesus_ . He faces the screen again, trying his best to get _that_ image out of his head.

“Ahh, you’re awake, sleeping beauty!”

“You could’ve woken me up…” Peter grumbles at the screen.

Wade laughs, good natured and _definitely_ a morning person (though it was noon), “Naw, you looked like you needed it.”

 Peter turns. Wade’s back is to him, and he’s drying his hair with another towel. “Where’d the laptop come from?”

Wade freezes, “I didn’t steal it.”

Definitely not the behavior of somebody entirely guilt-free, however. Peter pressed. “Okay, so where did you buy it?”

Wade turned around, pointing at the laptop in question, “ _Borrowing_ , I’m borrowing it. For a few hours. From the front desk clerk.”

Peter frowns, he hadn’t really heard of hotels loaning laptops before. He had heard of computer rooms… Plus this seemed like a _personal_ laptop. “He just let you borrow his laptop?”

Wade chuckles, “Um, yes?” _Give it a minute_ … Peter stares. “No? Okay, so I may have threatened bodily harm if he _didn’t_ … But I have full intent of giving it back, so no biggie, right?”

He groans, “No, that is _not_ okay…” He watches Wade deflate, _sulk_ , and it makes him feel just a little bit bad. But that was _not cool man_ and he needed to understand that. He shakes his head, “But there is nothing we can do about it now, so might as well use it for a bit -  then give it back _and apologize_.”

Wade nodded way too fast, rushing over to their bags, “Yes, yes, of course…” He comes over with the flashdrive - the one that contained all the ugly stuff Peter found in that laboratory.  

Peter wasn’t sure he really wanted to see what was on that drive, but it was already too late for that. He was suddenly thankful he hadn’t ate yet. He plugged it in.

He was fully aware, maybe a little self conscious, that Wade was practically draped over his shoulder. He breathed in through his nose, turning slightly, to face him. “Could you, I don’t know man, _get dressed_ and _not_ hover over my shoulder?”

Except, he doesn’t move, he _smiles_. And he gives this atrocious wink. “Why? Am I making you nervous, Petey?”

Peter swallows. He _knows_ Wade is teasing him. He has seen, and read enough about Deadpool that he _knows_ it is just what he does - flirts sometimes. But it _does_ make him nervous. Peter can’t help but look. Wade Wilson was, objectively, an attractive man. Peter glanced down, taking in the vast un-scarred expanse of his chest, back…  
  
He glances back up, Wade’s confident smile falters a bit, “No,” Peter says dryly, trying to quell his queasy stomach. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Wade snaps back up with forced laughter, “Yes, of course.” He heads back over to his luggage throwing a little quip over his shoulder, “I _love_ when you boss me around, it is like we’re married.”

Feeling much better, Peter rolls his eyes and returns back to the screen. “Does this count as our honeymoon then? Saving a man with extraordinary healing abilities - whose bones can actually protrude from his knuckles by the way - from a group of evil scientists that reside in _Canada_ of all places?”

“Too risqué?”

“Would have chosen Hawaii, myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE NEW SPIDER-MAN TRAILER... BROKE ME. IT, BROKE. ME. GUYS. I'M NOTTT OKAY.
> 
> On a side note - next chapter the plot really gets moving again. Shit is about to go down. So, hopefully it will be a longer chapter - I apologize for these little baby chapters. But I'm trying to pace things a bit. 
> 
> Next - thank you guys so so much for your continued support. This is the longest fic I've ever written - hell it is the most I've ever written for one thing? That wouldn't be true without your support so thank you for motivating me and being lovely. Much love <3


	20. Count on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Count on Me - Bruno Mars
> 
> I don't know if I ever mentioned it - but the school Miles goes to is a boarding school. All the students stay in dorms.

_October 5nd 2018, Friday - 4:09pm  
_ _POV Miles_

“I can’t believe we made it out of there.”

“Yeah, thanks to your awkwardness.”

Miles groaned. Because _yeah,_ that _was_ awkward. One of the top few awkward moments of his life. And he had a lot of them. MJ and Harry were on their way back, but Ned insisted he needed at least another five minutes. So, what did Miles do? Run out into the hall, directly into Harry Osborn.

“Oof, oh, Miles-hey,” Harry said, good natured, despite being rammed into. Though, being a quarterback, he hardly budged.

Miles was the one who was rebounding, adjusting his backpack strap, “Harry, MJ, uh,” MJ shot him an expectant look. _Come up with something Miles!_ “Uh-I gotta use the bathroom!”

Harry blinked, “Uh, right, it's just around the-”

“-Can you show me?” Just a few minutes more. That was all they needed. Miles knew where the bathroom was, Harry probably knew this too, as he worked there.

Harry stares, gives Miles a once over, as if unsure of his motives. Maybe he was catching on. Miles swallowed. But he decides to go nonetheless, shrugging, “Sure, MJ, mind waiting for us in the lab?”

MJ smiles, “Not at all.”

So, they walk, just the two of them. Silence filled with tension. Miles mentally prepares himself for some kind of confrontation, which only finally comes when he lets down his guard to wash his hands.

“I know what this is about.”

 _Gulp_. “Oh?” He feigns innocence, scrambling for a paper towel to wipe his hands. His face in the mirror is a dead give away, guilt. He really has to work on his acting.

Harry smiles, coy, as he comes up beside Miles. He claps him on the shoulder and gives him a side-hug, “Don’t worry, man, I don’t really want to date MJ. We’re just good friends. I’m into someone else anyway.”

“...Date MJ?” _Date MJ._ His reflection’s eyes widen in realization - ducks his head as heat rushes to his face. Harry thought he was _jealous_ \- that he wanted to date MJ. That he brought him here to confront him about it? _Oh god_ \- it was crazy, but better to go with that than the alternative. So, Miles tosses the paper towel, nodding. “Er, right, thanks…”

Harry Osborn just nods, satisfied, as either the most dense or brilliant of them all.

\---

 _October 5nd 2018, Friday - 9:12pm_ _  
_ _POV Miles_

Miles didn’t make it back before curfew. After getting the data, and ditching Oscorp, the trio somehow ended up at Ned’s house. His house was neat, small, and his parents kind - if not a little nosy. Ned muttered that he hadn’t brought anyone home besides Peter before. So, as the three sat in the living room, going through the data on Ned’s laptop. Most of it didn’t really make much sense to them… The data was cataloged in a way that only seemed to make sense to the owner. Or, Miles supposed, if you knew what you were looking for - he did infer that it had to do with genetic structuring however. They made a copy of the data anyway - just for safekeeping.

Ned’s mom appeared several times. First, with glasses of water. Second, with some cut up fruit. If anything it was kind of endearing, except by the third time she appeared and insisted they stay for dinner. So, they naturally did.

It wasn’t until MJ was stretching, and announcing that she must be going that Miles really thought to leave. The train ride back to school didn’t take too long, but by that time it was long past dark. And curfew was also long past over.

Miles was already treading thin ice - having broken curfew several times now. The school mentioned something about disciplinary action, suspension - truth be told Miles was only half listening. His parents were furious, his dad assumed it was him rebelling. It made sense, since Miles was so against transferring to the stuck up school in the first place, but it truly wasn’t that reason. It was his uncle’s disappearance, and then it was Peter’s.

Which wasn’t so easy to explain. Miles froze in front of the door to the dorms. Bracing for impact, he scanned his keycard, and pulled the door open. The hallway lights were half off. He ducked past the main office, thought he lights were off, hoping to sneak in without notice.

“Morales.”

\---

 _October 6nd 2018, Saturday - 9:24am  
_ _POV Miles_

 _THE OGs - @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales  
_ _9:24am_

@ChairguyLeeds: so when are we doing this

@MJWatson: asap - we should get Deadpool’s help. Will be dangerous and we need back up. Tony will shut it down before we can.

@ChairguyLeeds: ask forgiveness not permission - Pete

@MilesandMorales: bad news - I’m basically on house arrest for the foreseeable future

@MJWatson: What happened?

@MilesandMorales: Missed curfew a few times

@ChairguyLeeds: duude

@MilesandMorales: cannot even leave campus without permission

@ChairguyLeeds: no good sorry man

@MilesandMorales: I’m rlly sorry guys I will try to make up some reason to my parents

@MJWatson: There is homecoming

@ChairguyLeeds: this friday yea not ready

@MJWatson: Tell your parents you have a date to our school’s homecoming

@ChairguyLeeds: brilliant wait does this mean homecoming is f’d this yr too?

@MilesandMorales: but I don’t have a date?

@MJWatson: Wear a red tie.

\--

 _October 9th 2018, Wednesday - 1:33pm  
_ _POV Wade_

[I think he really is losing it]

(We may need an intervention)

Deadpool was on rampage. A rampage of do-gooding. With Spidey, temporarily out of commission, it was his job to patrol for him. But he wouldn’t kill. Oh no, he must be good. Be good for Spidey, he wouldn’t like killing. So, instead criminals are tied up and sticky-noted in front of the police station. It is actually kind of fun, pulling out a sharpie and writing _I’m a dumb stalker_ on some moron’s forehead.

[it was all fun and games]

It started as a distraction. There was no more leads on Hydra, as it turned out, cutting off a bunch of heads tended to make them want to lay low. Who would have thought? So, unless they had a way to lure them out, which they didn’t, there was nothing for Deadpool to do. But wait, and he wasn’t good at waiting, so patrol it was.

(But it has reached a point where-)

A businessman passes them on the street. He carelessly throws his empty coffee cup into the street. Instead of the trash. Littering is illegal. Pollution is unraveling their society as a whole. One selfish choice. “Excuse me!” Deadpool yells, but the man keeps walking, “littering is a crime!”

[-where it just is inexcusable]

The businessman keeps going. Deadpool picks up the cup and lodges it at the back of the man’s head.

\---

“Come and get a drink on me, haha, yes sir, of course, I’m sorry, have a good day!”

The door slams shut, and out steps Weasel, shockingly stark in broad daylight for the first time in years. He takes one look at the sad, lonely red figure and keeps walking.

Wade follows, properly schooled.

Weasel stops, turning to point a finger at him with a glare, “I can’t believe I just had to kiss that guy’s ass to make sure he didn’t sue you! Why are you out here throw cups of coffee at people’s heads?” He flinches, “Oh, god, when was the last time you showered? When was the last time you _slept_? Get - your - shit - together - Wilson!”

Yeah, shit, he did need to get it together.

(Never thought I’d see the day where we’d get yelled at by Weasel)

[everything is backwards]

He watched Weasel go before heading back for his apartment. He was halfway back, when his phone buzzed.

 _THE GOONIES GUCCI GANG - @MercwithaMouth @ChairguyLeeds @MJWatson @MilesandMorales  
_ _2:57pm_

_@ChairguyLeeds: we got a plan - need ur help @MercwithaMouth_

_\---_

_October 12th 2018, Friday - 7:40pm  
_ _POV Miles_

Miles’s stomach was doing acrobats. They had a plan and it was about to be set in motion. It would work because it _had_ to work. It was just jitters. He tried tying his tie for the third time. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked awkward in a black tux, a size slightly too big. He tightened the tie, red, and breathed. He was a lanky teen, still baby faced, looking like he was playing dress up.

“How do I look?” Miles asks, hoping for, at best, a noncommittal ‘good’ or even grunt.

Instead, his roommate, Amadeus Cho, leans back in his desk chair looking impassive. “Your tie is crooked.” He deadpans before turning back to his computer.

Miles sighs, but does nothing, “It’s as good as it’s gonna get…” He murmurs as opens his backpack to find the flashdrive. It was finally time, he grabbed the flashdrive, but there was a _sting_ at the back of his neck. _“_ Ah, _shit,_ ” he swatted at his neck, a critter having taking a bite of him.

He shudders, hoping he at least scared off whatever it was. He tucked the flash drive back into his front pocket. A pressure builds unexpectedly in his chest, his heart races, he takes slow, deep breaths.

“Miles?”

It sounds far away. Like he is under water, breathing underwater.

“Miles!”

It snaps away. Everything is bright, vibrant in color, crystal clear. “Yeah?”

Cho is staring at him, with a look that Miles hasn’t seen before. Also one he doesn’t have the time to really contemplate. “Your ride is here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support - 700 kudos what?? Bookmarks/subscriptions <3 And thank you for all so much your kind comments - they really do keep me going lol.
> 
> No Peter or Past!Wade in this chapter unfortunately. But we will make up for it very soon I promise!
> 
> Best (:


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